


The Way to a Man’s Heart is Through Chlamydia

by violue



Series: Cupcakes and Chlamydia [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Animal Attack, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Chlamydia, Comedy, Homophobia, Homophobic John, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mild Gore, Panty Kink, Past Infidelity (not Dean or Castiel), Possessive Castiel, Semi-Public Sex, Unsafe Sex, abuse of sitcom tropes, author's liberal agenda, mentions of past attempted noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 89,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violue/pseuds/violue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean doesn't expect to see his one night stand again, but then again he also doesn't expect to find out he has an STD. Sometimes life is hilarious like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HA. Where to begin with this. Let me just give you the bullet points.
> 
> 1.) This fic is complete. ~~I have no set posting schedule, but it's likely I'll put a chapter up every 1-3 days. It's all typed up and beta'd, it's sitting in a Google Doc page that takes forever to load, and barring my untimely death, it will _all_ be posted. So it's a WIP, but it's not. I just wanted to try out the whole "posting a chapter at a time thing" because...~~
> 
> 2.) This fic is about 90,000 words of aimless domestic fluff. There's nothing deep going on here. There is sex, and pie, and long cutesy text conversations, and hey sometimes that's all anyone needs, right? Think of this fic as... like 30 timestamps to the first chapter.
> 
> 3.) I got a lot of compliments on my DCBB that meant a lot to me, about how it subverted many commonly used Destiel fic tropes, and how nifty that was. No closeted Dean, no homophobic John, etc. **This fic** unfortunately is a cornucopia of commonly used Destiel tropes. If you're looking for something new or groundbreaking, you're looking in the wrong place. Like I said, aimless domestic fluff. It was fun to write, and I hope it's fun to read.
> 
> 4.) This fic is dedicated to every Destiel fic I've ever read where Dean and Cas meet, feel an attraction, and after a perfunctory "ARE YOU CLEAN? OK ME TOO." conversation, proceed to have condomless sex even though they _just met_ and have no real reason to trust each other.
> 
> 5.) This fic was beta'd with great gusto by [Casfucker](http://archiveofourown.org/users/destielicious/pseuds/destielicious), and [JadeDBirch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/pseuds/ElDiablito_SF). Many blessings on both your houses, and Jade I hope you will some day learn to forgive me for not italicizing my movie titles.

 

Dean’s on his third beer of the night, and he’s just turned down his fifth guy. He shouldn’t be here. Every man here is dressed in some variation of “sexy business casual”, while Dean is in a pair of ratty old jeans, a green plaid shirt, and his father’s beat up old leather jacket. He sticks out like a sore thumb, and apparently also screams “challenge”, because men keep coming up to hit on him despite the fact that he’s mostly been glaring at his beer the whole night. They seem to think he’s playing hard to get, when really Dean is playing “what the fuck am I doing in a gay bar”.

Dean isn’t gay, but he supposes he can admit in his own head that he might maybe swing both ways. It’s been a month since Lisa dumped him and the thought of picking up a woman to satisfy some pent up sexual urges still feels wrong. So, Dean had reasoned, why not go with a dude instead? It made sense two hours ago when he was in his pajamas eating his third piece of store bought apple pie at eight o’clock on a Saturday night, but now that he’s here he mostly just feels awkward. Going home with a guy will still be going home with someone, after all. Besides, the men that have approached Dean have all been attractive, but in an objective sort of way, nothing that’s making his dick perk up in interest.

Then there’s the pick-up lines. Dear _God._ Guy Number Three had actually opened with “come here often?” and the last one went with “what’s a rough guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Dean watches as Guy Number Five trudges back to his table, handing what looks like cash to the other two men, that Dean recognizes as Guy Number One and Guy Number Two. Jesus Fucking Christ, are they _betting_ on this? The three men catch Dean glaring and look down quickly at their drinks. Dean grins and takes another swig of his nine dollar bottle of beer. He goes back to frowning. He left some fairly tasty pie and a Cupcake Wars marathon on Food Network to sit here and drink overpriced beer. He should go, this was a waste of time.

“Excuse me,” a gravelly voice next to Dean says. He doesn’t even turn to look, it’s probably another asshole from the betting table.

“Look buddy,” Dean grumbles, “you and your friends can find a new guy to bet on, yeah? Piss off.”

“What? I… no, I think this is your wallet. The man in the driver’s license photo looks remarkably like you.”

Dean turns at that, and… huh. Five o’clock shadow, jeans, a t-shirt with a cartoon of two chickens hugging, and a well worn blue hoodie. This guy doesn’t quite fit in here either. He’s kind of hot, actually. The icy blue eyes and unruly brown hair are kind of doing something for Dean right now. He realizes the man is holding out his wallet and takes it.

“Thanks, uh…” Dean pauses, waiting for the man to fill in the blank.

“Castiel.”

“Right. Thanks, Cas. Didn’t even notice I’d dropped it. Good thing too, beer’s almost empty.”

Castiel stares at Dean for a long moment, then looks around the room. “You seem… out of place.”

“Yeah, well so do you, big guy.”

“I’m actually here to collect a friend of mine,” Castiel says, waving down the bartender.

“What can I get for you, cutie?” the bartender says with a huge grin. The guy is all lanky limbs and dorky smiles and looks like he should be hanging out at a comic book store, not slinging fancy drinks in an arguably upscale gay bar.

“I received a phone call that a friend of mine needed to be picked up,” Castiel says, “but I can’t seem to locate him.”

The bartender’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, are you Novak?”

“Yes.”

“Dude, I’m really sorry, I meant to call you back. Your friend, the uh… amorous French guy, he left. He _begged_ me to call you, and then five minutes later he left with some guy, and I totally forgot to call you to let you know, I am so sorry.”

Castiel sighs. “That sounds par for the course with Balthazar.”

The bartender frowns. “Sorry, man. I was going to call, then some dude puked on the pool table and it completely slipped my mind.”

Wow, Dean hadn’t even noticed any of that happening.

“How about a drink?” the bartender offers. “On the house.”

Castiel sighs again, taking the stool next to Dean’s. “I accept, thank you.” He pauses. “I have no idea what to order.”

“I’ll surprise you,” the bartender says, flitting off to make the drink.

Dean turns to Castiel. “Who the hell names their kid _Balthazar_? Or Castiel for that matter.”

“We both came from very religious families, once upon a time,” Castiel says, drumming his fingers against the bar top.

“Not anymore?”

“Our particular religion isn’t big on homosexuality,” Castiel says.

“Yeah, I hear that about religion.”

Castiel and Dean are both startled when the bartender sets down Castiel’s drink with a cheerful “Enjoy!” before he moves on to other customers. Castiel stares at the drink in horror, while Dean can barely keep himself from laughing. He’s seen smaller fishbowls, and this thing is filled to the brim with a vodka-smelling drink in a color Dean would have to describe as “Radioactive Pink”. There are chunks of fruit along the rim of the glass, and a bright blue crazy straw with a tiny umbrella sticking out. Dean snaps a photo of it with his phone, it’s the most amazing thing he’s seen in a long, long time.

“What in God’s name is this thing?” Castiel mutters.

“A free drink, that’s what it is,” Dean says, pulling the umbrella out of the straw. “Drink up, Cas!”

Castiel grunts then leans forward over the drink, sucking it in through the straw. When the drink actually reaches his mouth he pulls away, wrinkling his nose and glaring at the drink like it personally insulted him. It’s fucking adorable.

“Come on man, it can’t be _that_ bad,” Dean says. Castiel pushes the drink with both hands over to Dean, who immediately takes a pull. It really is that strong. “ _Damn_. Maybe I should keep this. You look like a bit of a lightweight.”

“What makes me look like a lightweight?”

“Oh I dunno, you look kinda thin and wimpy to me.”

Castiel… wait, was it Casper? Shit, Dean’s kind of drunk… Cas-something glares, pulling the drink back to himself and taking several petulant gulps through his straw. Dean cheers, holding up his beer bottle to the bartender to signal he wants a new one.

“Way to go, Casper!” Dean says.

Casper narrows his eyes at Dean. “Castiel,” he says, speaking around the straw.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Instead of bringing Dean a new beer, the bartender plonks down what looks to be a smaller version of the drink he gave Castiel.

“The hell, man? I didn’t order this,” Dean says, poking at his purple crazy straw.

The bartender grins. “It’s on the house too!”

“What even is it?”

“I’m calling it a Garth Special.”

“You Garth?”

“Sure am!” Garth says proudly.

“This is your first week as a bartender, isn’t it Garth.”

“As a matter of fact, no. I’ve been here three years!” Garth says. He’s so _cheerful._

“What? Really? You seem so… happy.”

“It’s not a crime to love your job! I like it here!”

“That cause you get paid to ogle cute guys?”

“Nah, I’m straight.” Dean stares at Garth, mystified. Garth grins. “Drink up!”

 

***

 

After about half an hour, Dean is fairly hammered and Casper is in the same condition. Whatever is in that Garth Special, it sure packs a wallop. Dean and Casper are engaged in a conversation about… horses? Dogs? No, no, pie, that’s what they’re talking about. Dean’s focus is a little on the hazy side. Mostly he’s just staring at Casper’s mouth while he talks. Casper has a particularly interesting mouth. Dean really wants to do some inappropriate things to that mouth.

“... and I definitely like cherry better than apple,” Casper says, and Dean snaps out of his stupor to glare at him indignantly.

“Did you just say cherry pie is _better_ than apple?”

Casper narrows his eyes. “Well no, I said I _prefer_ cherry to apple, that doesn’t necessarily mean one is better than the other.”

“Uh huh, well you’d better not be bagging on apple pie, ‘cuz I’d have to like… kick your ass.”

Casper smiles serenely at Dean. “I don’t particularly care for apples in general.”

“That’s fucked up, man. That’s… like un-American and shit.”

“People can’t help what does and doesn’t taste good to them, Dean.”

“God, I really want to fuck you,” Dean mutters.

Casper spits out a mouthful of the watery remainder of his drink in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“I said that out loud, didn’t I,” Dean says. Garth swoops by, toweling up the mess on the counter and handing Casper a napkin.

Casper wipes the mess off his chin, staring at Dean with wide eyes. “You want to have sex. With me.”

“Uh…”

“Aren’t you a heterosexual?”

“Judging me by my clothes? That’s pretty narrow minded, Casper.”

“It’s Castiel, and it’s not your clothes. You seemed very unhappy being here when I arrived.”

“Well maybe that’s because no one grabbed my attention until you arrived,” Dean says with a leer.

Casper… no, Casteel… rolls his eyes, and Dean winces.

“Smooth, I know. Give me a break, man. I’m drunk.”

“I’m not particularly interested in being someone’s drunken homosexual mistake,” Casteel says.

“Come on, Casteel, I came here specifically to pick up a guy, I just… lost my nerve.”

“Castiel.”

“That’s what I said. Casteel.”

Casteel’s head thumps against the bar. “I’m not going to sleep with a man that can’t even pronounce my name.”

Dean grins. “What, so if I say your name right, we can go do some gay shit at the motel down the road?”

Dean is treated to the longest eye roll he’s ever received in his life. “You are very fortunate that you’re the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my _life,_ ” Casteel says.

Dean’s grin gets bigger. “I’m taking that as a compliment. So come on, help me get your name right, Casteel.”

Casteel glares.

“That’s kind of fuckin’ hot,” Dean says.

“Repeat after me. Cas.”

“Cas.”

“Tee.”

“Tee.”

“El.”

“El. Cas-tee-el.”

“C-A-S-T-I-E-L.”

“C-A-S-T-I-E-L. Castiel!”

“Very good,” Castiel says.

Dean jumps to his feet, stumbling slightly. He slaps a ten dollar tip for Garth down on the counter and grabs Castiel’s hand, pulling him toward the exit. The three men that were placing bets on Dean are still at their table, and they glare at them as they pass.

Once they’re out in the parking lot, Castiel tugs on Dean’s sleeve. Dean pauses, looking at him.

“You okay, Cas...tiel?”

“Did you see those men glaring at me?”

“They’re just jealous, man. I caught them betting on who could pick me up or some shit. Rude.”

“Really? They were attractive men, Dean. Surely one of them would have been suitable for a one night stand.”

Dean turns to look at Castiel fully. “This… so isn’t your kind of thing, is it.”

“No.”

“Shit. Well, I mean you don’t gotta do this man, I don’t want to make you do something you don’t wanna.”

Castiel quirks an eyebrow. “I believe I am coming with you of my own free will, Dean.”

“But… if you’re not into the whole… casual sex thing...why come along?”

Castiel leans in close, whispering into Dean’s ear in a way that goes straight to his dick. “As I told you before, you’re _very_ attractive.”

If Dean were sober, he’d be very uncomfortable with Castiel praising his looks in such a matter-of-fact way. He’d crack a self-deprecating joke, or grin and give a cocky reply, or maybe change the subject. He’s not sober though, and instead he pulls Castiel into a kiss, moaning at the wet tangle of their tongues and fisting a hand in Castiel’s hair.

“You’re very attractive too,” Dean mumbles.

They stagger down the road to the Matador Motel, trading laughter and kisses along the way. Dean is dismayed when he opens his wallet to pay the sixty-five dollar room fee and discovers he only has thirty dollars in his wallet.

“No, no, what the hell? I had a fifty I hadn’t even broken yet!” Dean says, checking his pockets.

“Oh,” Castiel says softly.

Dean looks over. “Oh?”

“You left a fifty dollar tip for Garth. I thought you were just an over-tipper, but…”

“I thought that was a _ten_ ! I was feeling generous, but not _that_ generous!”

Castiel laughs, as does the receptionist who’d been feigning disinterest.

“This is the most embarrassing one night stand _ever,_ ” Dean whines.

Castiel gives Dean a cheeky smile, slapping the required amount of money onto the counter. “Done a lot of these, then?”

The woman at the counter hands Castiel a key and gives them both a thumbs up and a big grin. They make their way to the room, Dean staring at his feet while they walk.

“I have in the past,” Dean says, “I mean done the one night stand thing. But not recently. I haven’t been with anyone since my girlfriend dumped me a month ago, and before that we were together for two years.”

Castiel pauses in opening the door, looking at Dean with concern.

“Aw, come on, don’t give me the sympathy face,” Dean says, “I’m fine.”

Castiel opens the door, pulling Dean inside. They flick on the light, and… woah.

“Wow,” Castiel says softly.

The room is… hideous. The carpet, bedspread, and chairs are all an ugly shade of red, but not the _same_ shade of red, the wallpaper is almost orange, and there are paintings of bulls and matadors on the walls at irregular intervals.

“What in the name of God was their decorator smoking?” Dean says, bewildered. He looks over at Castiel as he speaks, but Castiel is staring at one of the paintings with his mouth hanging open. The painting is of a matador, apparently trampled and gored to death by the bull that is standing on its hind legs over the corpse.

“I…” Castiel says.

Dean takes his phone out, snapping a photo of the painting. He wants proof that it isn’t a figment of his imagination. He takes a photo of Castiel’s dumbstruck expression as well, and Castiel looks over with a scowl. Dean grins.

“Mementos,” he says.

“This is a stunningly bad choice in decor,” Castiel says. “Do they not want to people to stay here?”

“I don’t even know, man, but it’s amazing.”

Castiel looks at Dean. “I’m not sure what to do now.”

“Been awhile since you got down and dirty?”

“Something like that. Do you still want to? I realize talking about ex-girlfriends and… this _room_ are not conducive to a drunken fling.”

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Dude, have you _seen_ you? I’d fuck you in the waiting room of a funeral parlor.”

“That’s very romantic. I’d love to get that on a greeting card, or embroidered on a pillow.”

Dean smirks, locking the door to their room. “Take off your fucking clothes, Castiel.”

 

***

 

Half an hour later and Castiel is naked, face down on the fucking _criminally_ ugly bedspread, which Dean had discovered actually has a god damn paisley motif in hideous grey stitching. Castiel is moaning, ass in the air while Dean fingers him open, aided by the packets of lube Dean had in his wallet.

Dean has only ever done this to someone else a few times before, when Lisa read an article in Cosmo about it and wanted to give it a go. She’d enjoyed it, but not the way Castiel does. Then again, Lisa didn’t have a prostate gland.

As much as Dean wants to get his dick inside this space he’s making for himself, he’s fucking addicted to the moans and gasps coming out of Castiel. It’s hard to convince himself to withdraw his fingers.

Castiel’s cock is hanging between his legs, wet at the head and so hard they could use it to break drywall.  Dean really wants a taste, he hasn’t had a dick in his mouth since high school. But, he gets the feeling that Castiel will go off like a rocket at the first lick, the guy is _primed_ for it. Dean hasn’t had this much fun in ages. He leans forward, biting at Castiel’s left ass cheek, just because he can.

“Dean, Dean come on, I’m ready. I’ve _been_ ready,” Castiel whines. Dean just bites him again. He’s still in his clothes, minus his jacket and shoes, and Castiel groans in displeasure when he turns his head and catches sight of him.

“Something wrong, baby?”

“You’re still in your clothes,” Castiel says, “do you intend to get me worked into a frenzy and then dash off into the night?”

Dean smirks, unzipping his pants and shoving them and his boxers far enough down to pull his cock out. He rubs the fat head against Castiel’s rim, delighting in the hysterical moan he gets in reply.

“No, Cas. No, I’m definitely getting my dick in there,” Dean teases. He grabs his wallet off the floor, pulling out the condom he brought and tearing it open with his teeth. Castiel rolls his eyes at Dean’s cheesy gesture, and Dean swats him on the ass. He rolls the condom on, freezing at the small tear he sees at the base. He decides to poke at the tear for some reason, which only makes it bigger. “Well, shit.”

“What is it?”

“Condom tore.”

“Well that’s what you get for using your _teeth_ to open it,” Castiel says.

“Hey, maybe it tore because it’s been in my wallet for months, did you ever think about that? Okay nevermind, either way it would be my fault, huh.”

“Do you have another?”

“No. Fuck, I suck. Do you have one?”

Castiel snorts inelegantly. “No, I definitely do not have any condoms.”

“Well, shit,” Dean says, feeling defeated. He really wants to fuck Castiel. “Well, are you clean?”

Castiel snorts again. “I’d say so.”

“Well, I haven’t been with anyone since my ex, and she and I were together like two years, so I’m good,” Dean reasons.

Castiel frowns a little, looking down at the bedspread. “But...I’m not on the pill.”

Dean laughs, slapping Castiel’s ass again. It’s a very slappable ass.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Castiel asks, almost whining. “Are you waiting for a formal invitation?”

Dean grabs Castiel’s hips, pulling him closer so he can rut against his ass. “As a matter of fact, I _am_ waiting for a formal invitation.”

“Dearest Dean,” Castiel growls, “I would be very honored if you would stick your fucking dick in my- ahhh!” Castiel cries out as Dean’s dick pushes in, slowly but with no hesitation. Castiel slaps his hand down against the bedspread several times as Dean’s hips bump against his ass.

Dean pauses. “Is that some kind of signal to stop?”

“What?” Castiel is almost yelling. “No! No, that was in _no way_ a signal to stop.”

“So you’re okay?”

“Yes, yes I’m fine, keep going, _please._ ”

Dean chuckles, pulling out and pushing back in, over and over, building a steady pace. The noises Castiel makes are quite a boost to Dean’s ego, and he hopes he can remember the sounds of Castiel’s frantic moaning and gasping the next time he’s jerking off.

Dean feels around Castiel’s hipbones, stroking the sharply sculpted planes. As soon as he’d seen them he’d wanted to lick them, worship them, but he thought that might be a bit too intimate for the situation. So of course he flipped Castiel over and started fingering his ass instead. It made sense at the time. Dean’s still not exactly sober.

“You feel fuckin’ perfect, fuck,” Dean groans. Castiel spreads his knees further apart and pushes his face into the bedspread. Dean can feel his dick actually throb at the sight. He shifts until he’s pretty much mounting Castiel, left hand on Castiel’s hip, right hand full of soft, dark hair while he holds Castiel’s head down.

Judging by the way Castiel twitches with each thrust now, the way he moans louder than before, Dean assumes he’s nailing Castiel’s prostate at least part of the time.

All too soon, Dean feels that telltale spark in his stomach that warns of an impending orgasm. He wants to last longer, but he can’t bring himself to slow down.

“Fuck,” Dean hisses, “tell me you’re close, because I’m not going to last I’m embarrassed to say. You feel too fucking good.”

Castiel tries to speak, but his words are muffled by the bedspread. He turns his head to the side, panting. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m certain I… ohhh… once read that the ave- _fuck_ \- average sexual encounter lasts less… less… fuck, than ten minutes.”

“Did you just _teach me something_ while I have my dick in your ass?” Dean asks incredulously.

“Apparently.”

“Touch yourself, Cas.”

Castiel complies immediately, working a hand under himself, and judging by the movement of his arm, jerking himself pretty rapidly.

“You almost there, Cas?” Dean asks between moans. “You gonna come while I’m-- fuck-- pounding you in the ass?”

Dean feels Castiel tighten around him as he comes, cursing and clawing at the bed with his free hand. _Fuck yes._ Dean lets himself come, thrusts going slower in the slick mess he makes in Castiel’s body.

He holds still for several breaths, letting himself calm down a bit before he pulls out and rolls onto his side, grinning at the man with his face smashed into the bed. “I think you can put your ass down, man.”

Castiel lifts his head enough so he can turn it to face Dean. “Smugness doesn’t become you.”

Dean’s smile grows. “Gonna have to disagree with you there. It becomes me because I _earned_ it.”

Castiel huffs, shifting until he’s flat on the bed. “Earned it, huh?”

“Hell yeah knocked it out of the park on my first try! Well. Mostly my first try. I mean I’ve never gone all the way with a guy and uh… anyway. Out. Of. The. Park.”

“Fine, it was a valiant attempt, my world is suitably rocked.”

Dean frowns a little. “It wasn’t bad, was it? It seemed good to me, but I did drink all that booze. Fuck.”

“Dean, relax. I can assure you, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

The smile slowly creeps back onto Dean’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Now that I’ve reassured you about your prowess, I’m hoping you won’t laugh in my face at my question.”

“It’s a silly drunken thing I did a few years ago. It’s supposed to be a protection symbol, my brother has one too.”

“What?” Castiel looks completely baffled.

“Were you not going to ask about my tattoo?”

“No.”

“Oh. Ha. Well then that was a freebie, what’s your question?”

“What is the… correct etiquette here?” Castiel asks, looking uncomfortable. “This is my first one night stand. I’m not sure what I should be doing next.”

“I’m not going to laugh, but you have to know that was fucking adorable.”

“Well?”

“I don’t know, I guess we’re supposed to get dressed, make our way back to our cars at the bar, exchange awkward handshakes. Maybe I’ll have a Big Gay Panic later. Or…”

“Or?”

“Or we could burrow under this ugly blanket, go to sleep, and worry about the awkward goodbye later on?”

Castiel smiles. “That sounds like a great idea.”

They climb off the bed long enough to flip off the light and crawl under the bedspread, still covered in sweat and come.

“This is not remotely how I thought my night would turn out,” Castiel says.

Dean yawns, wrapping his arms around Castiel and pulling him over until Dean’s nicely spooned up against his back. “No?”

“Before I was called to the bar, I was drinking a mug of tea in my bathrobe and watching a documentary about bees,” Castiel says, yawning.

“Sounds like a party,” Dean says with a chuckle.

“I’m… perhaps not the most social person.”

“If it helps, two hours before you showed up at the bar I was sitting on my little brother’s couch, eating pie and watching Cupcake Wars while he and his wife went out for Date Night.”

“Actually,” and Dean can _hear_ Castiel smiling as he speaks, “that does help.”

“Mhm.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Did I do okay? During the sex part.”

“You were a fuckin’ firecracker, Cas.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”

Castiel hums sleepily, and Dean kisses the back of his head. This is nice. He hasn’t cuddled anyone since Lisa, and Castiel is… cozy. In the back of his sleepy, still-not-sober mind, Dean thinks maybe this doesn’t have to be a one night thing. Maybe he and Castiel can be friends, maybe more.

He tries not to be disappointed when he wakes up alone in the room, the dent in the pillow next to him the only sign that Castiel was ever there.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean gets back to Sam’s house at eight in the morning, feeling down and hoping no one is awake to catch him doing the walk of shame. No such luck. When Dean opens the front door Sam and Jess are curled up on the sofa, eating bowls of cereal and watching cartoons. They both look at Dean in surprise.

“Uh, I thought you were in your room,” Sam says.

Dean winces when Sam refers to it as his room. The second room was _supposed_ to be an office, a study, maybe a nursery down the road. But instead, Dean lives in there. Dean lost more than his girlfriend when Lisa ended things, he lost his place to live as well. The apartment was in Lisa’s name, and he wouldn’t have wanted to stay there anyway.

“Didn’t want me to catch you and the wife looking like those kids you spend all day with?” Dean says.

“It’s a great way to relax,” Jess says, “hush.”

“If you say so.”

Sam and Jess both teach at the middle school a mile up the road. If Dean had to spend the week wrangling kids, he wouldn’t want to watch their shows of choice on his day off.

“It helps us understand the kids, how their minds work,” Sam says around a mouthful of what looks to be Cocoa Pebbles.

“Wow, that’s actually pretty--” Sam interrupts Dean with his snickering.

“He’s so full of shit, Dean. We just like watching cartoons sometimes, don’t let him tell you any different,” Jess says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says, swallowing his mouthful, “let’s focus on the important stuff, like the fact that Dean is slinking into the house at eight in the morning on a Sunday.”

Dean feels himself flush.

“Wow, good call, Sam. Where were you, Dean? Bible study? Gardening? Going for a jog in jeans and a leather jacket?” Jess says, smirking.

Dean scowls. “I was… _out._ ”

“Uh huh,” Sam says, “So, what’s her name?”

“Doesn’t matter, we didn’t exactly exchange phone numbers,” Dean grumbles.

Sam gives Dean a disapproving frown like the fussy mother hen he is deep down, then sighs. “Dean…”

“Before you give me the ‘You’re Too Old To Be Trolling For Ass’ talk,” Dean starts, ignoring Sam and Jess as they mouth “trolling for ass?” at each other, “don’t forget you’re the one who’s been telling me I need to ‘get back out there’ lately.”

“I meant go see a movie with Benny or something, not go picking up sex partners,” Sam says.

“Well it’s your fault for not being more specific, you must really be kicking yourself,” Dean says, grinning at Sam’s responding glare. He hangs his jacket up in the coat closet then swipes Sam’s bowl of cereal, dropping down in the recliner next to the couch.

“Well did you have a good time at least?” Sam asks. He makes an indignant squawk as Dean helps himself to a spoonful of cereal, then makes a face at the flavor.

“What the hell is in this?”

“It’s soy milk. Give it back if you don’t want it, you jerk.”

Dean continues eating the cereal out of spite.

“So? Did you have a good time or not?” Jess asks.

“Uh… there were good parts. And bad parts. And blurry parts. Kind of drank a lot.”

Jess gives a little concerned head tilt. “What were the bad parts?”

“I accidentally left my bartender a fifty dollar tip, for one,” Dean says with a sigh. Jess spits out a mouthful of soy milk, laughing. “And I didn’t notice until I was down the road trying to pay for a motel room.”

Sam joins Jess in laughing.

Dean glares. “Next time you’re complaining that I keep too much to myself, I want you to remember this.”

“Come on,” Sam says, “that’s funny! It’s a funny story!”

“It was _embarrassing,_ and now I’m almost broke. I’ve got like twenty dollars to last me until next payday.”

“Dude, motel rooms are pricey, you’d be broke even if you _hadn’t_ tipped the bartender fifty bucks.”

“Who asked you?!” Dean barks.

“Aw, lighten up. You’re just getting back now, so it must have worked out,” Sam says.

Dean frowns, setting Sam’s cereal back on the coffee table. “Kind of. I woke up alone, and I wasn’t totally expecting to.”

Sam’s smile fades, his sympathetic face taking over. “Well, if you’re ready to _date_ again, I know some-”

“Nah, I’m not. Not really. I mean I might have been for this person, but… not really.”

And isn’t that an odd thought. Dean Winchester, thinking about dating a man. If he ever decides to kill his father, he’ll just open a conversation with that.

“This _person_?” Jess says slowly.

Uh oh. Sam’s head snaps over in Jess’ direction, then back to Dean. “Holy shit, he totally said person.”

“What the hell is wrong with _person_?” Dean asks, trying not to seem nervous.

“I mean, you could have said woman, or girl, or chick, but you,” Jess says.

“Said person,” Sam says, finishing Jess’ sentence.

Dean’s not a fan of lying to people he cares about, but he’s definitely not up for _this_ conversation. “Not everything has a secret meaning, guys. Her name was Heather, she was hot, I rocked her world, I woke up alone.”

“Oh,” Sam says, sounding almost disappointed. “Because you know, if you were-”

“Oh, this should be good.”

“I’m just saying I wouldn’t judge you if you ever thought you might not be completely heterosexual.”

“He sure wouldn’t!” Jess adds cheerfully.

“Jess!”

“Woah, woah, what did I miss?” Dean asks.

Jess bites her lip, grinning.

Sam sighs. “I _might_ have gone on a date with a guy. In college.”

“You mean you _dated_ a guy.”

“JESS!”

Jess ignores him. “He dated Brady!”

“ _Brady_?” Dean repeats, bewildered. “You were dating _Brady_ in college?” Tyson Brady was an old college friend of Sam’s, with a string of angry ex-girlfriends and former hook-ups far longer than Dean’s, and apparently, he dated Sam.

“I want a divorce,” Sam says, glaring at Jess.

“They were a _very_ attractive couple,” Jess says, leaning in Dean’s direction.

Dean is trying hard not to picture his brother with god damn Brady. “So, like… what happened? How did it end?”

Sam scowls. “He cheated on me.”

Dean frowns. “You should have told me. I would have kicked his ass.”

“And that would have been awesome, but I wasn’t sure how you’d react to the whole thing, so,” Sam trails off, shrugging.

Now Dean _really_ feels like a dick for not revealing who he was actually with, but even this information about Sam isn’t quite enough to soothe his trepidation. “I guess that explains why you guys seemed like best friends one month, and then suddenly he was gone from your life.”

“Brady was in no way boyfriend material,” Jess says. “But hey, I hold no grudges. I got the prize in the end.”

“Aww, you hear that Sammy? She thinks of you as a prize. You must feel so objectified,” Dean says.

Sam rolls his eyes. “This conversation really got away from me.”

“Hey it’s cool, Sammy.”

“I feel like we’re on uneven footing now,” Sam says.

This is it. This is the perfect time to say something. “Because you’ve been with a guy and I haven’t?”

“No, because you know a secret about me! No one in the Winchester Extended Family knows about that. So I think it’s only fair that you share a secret too.”

Now Dean rolls his eyes. “Alright. You remember that time you fell behind in math, back when you were a freshman, and you worked with that tutor from the community college? Rhonda Hurley.”

“Yeah I know you slept with her, Dean. We shared a wall, I _heard_ you.”

“No, that’s not it. This one time, she uh… she made me try on her panties,” Dean says, wondering if this is really better than just telling Sam he was out boning a guy. “And I uh… I liked it.”

Jess spills the rest of her cereal in her lap.

“So, are we even?” Dean asks hopefully.

Sam is staring at him in horror. “No, we’re not _even,_ now I’m stuck with the mental image of you in a damn thong!”

“Actually it wasn’t a thong, it was this pink satin number…”

Sam lets out a despairing wail before standing up and running out of the room.

“Worth it,” Dean says.

“Yes apparently it was so funny I wet myself,” Jess says, motioning to her lap.

“I have that effect on women.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go change.”

Jess exits the room and Dean shrugs, propping his feet up on the coffee table and watching whatever the hell cartoon Sam and Jess had on.

 

***

 

Over the next week, Dean thinks of the man he met at the bar often, though he can’t quite remember the whole night, or the guy’s name for that matter. He’s seventy-five percent sure it was Casper, though. Dean is still disappointed that Casper was gone when he woke up. Sure, Dean doesn’t exactly know how he’d have gone about… _dating_ a guy, but it still stings. He’d have liked the chance to get to know Casper better, at least. From what Dean remembers, he was an awesome guy. His only mementos of their time together are the three photos on his phone, and the one that actually has Casper in it is kind of blurry. He considers looking Casper up, but decides against it. If he was interested in Dean he wouldn’t have vanished like that.

Truth be told, Dean’s been in a bit of a funk since he woke up alone in that ugly hotel room. Work at the garage has been slow, there’s less to distract Dean from the fact that he’s unhappy. He’s not sad about Lisa, which is a nice change, but pining over a guy isn’t something he’s done in a long, long time.

On Thursday comes a truly mortifying moment where Bobby actually pulls him aside at lunch and _asks if he needs to talk_.

“No, Bobby, Jesus!” Dean says, offended.

“You seem pretty down, boy. Thought you were doing okay with the break up.”

“I am!”

“Is living with the world’s most nauseating couple starting to wear thin?”

“No, Sam and Jess have been great.”

“You fighting with your old man again?”

“No, Bobby. I’m just… I’m fine, okay?”

Bobby glares at Dean enough to make him wilt slightly. “Mhmm.”

 

***

 

Dean catches Bobby staring at him several times over the rest of the day, eyes narrowed, slight snarl on his face. It’s fucking unnerving, but Dean’s co-workers find it hilarious.

“He’s just worried about you, man,” Ash offers.

“Like hell he is,” Dean says, “I bet he’s worried that he’s out of the loop, the old gossip.”

Ash laughs. “Well there’s a fifty percent chance he’s concerned.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“This is _him,_ isn’t it?! He sent you over here to find out if I’m hiding something!”

“What’s that now?” Ash says, trying and failing to look innocent.

“Damn it, Ash!”

 

***

 

Dean spends the rest of the day under an ancient Dodge Dart, growling at anyone who comes to talk to him. He feels a bit guilty for being a dark cloud over Singer Repairs, but not enough to apologize, or cough up his story.

He’s grateful when the end of his shift finally rolls around. Sam and Jess are going out to dinner with Jess’ parents tonight, so Dean will have an hour or two to blast Metallica in his room without annoying them. He snags a six pack of cheap beer on his way back, and almost crashes his Impala when he arrives home and sees a car parked next to the house. 

Lisa's car.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for references to abortion.

Dean parks behind Lisa’s car, eyeing it warily. He feels like he’s going to throw up when he watches Lisa get out. At least she’s in a pair of jeans and a jacket, seeing her in her yoga pants probably would have made Dean cry. She always looked amazing in yoga pants.

Dean drums his thumbs on his steering wheel irritably. God, he hopes she’s not here to give it another go. He misses her, but he doesn’t “get back together” miss her. On some level Dean knows he mostly misses what they _had._ He never knew he was so much of a relationship person until he found himself in a stable one. But even if he doesn’t miss Lisa desperately, the break up still stung, and it still hurts to see her.

He needs to go see what she wants, he just has to gather himself first. If he lets his bad mood show, she’ll think he’s falling apart without her around. Maybe he is a little.

A knock on the driver’s side window startles Dean out of his thoughts. He whips his head to the side, locking eyes with Lisa. She looks concerned. Also beautiful. Damn. Dean gives her a small wave before exiting the Impala. He leaves the beer in the car, Lisa never did approve of drinking on a weekday.

He leans against the car, going for nonchalant and failing miserably. “What’s up, Lis?”

Lisa looks _incredibly_ uncomfortable. “Can we… talk inside?”

Dean is nervous, but he nods. He grabs his beer out of the back of the car after all, but Lisa doesn’t even bat an eye at it. They head into the house, and Lisa sits at the kitchen table while Dean puts his beer in the fridge. He can tell he’s going to want a cold one, and soon.

Lisa is fidgeting, staring at the table. It’s making Dean feel twitchy. What the hell does she want? Dean assumes she’s not here to win him back, not with the serious look on her face, and Lisa’s the kind of person that would get as gussied up as possible for that kind of gesture anyway. Maybe she’s pregnant. Holy shit, is she pregnant? She swore she was on the pill; hell Dean saw her take it most nights with her vitamins. Jesus Christ, Dean’s got father issues out the ass and he’s only part time at the garage until business picks up, and he doesn’t even have a place to _put_ a baby, holy shit. He has to find a second job, and find an apartment, and--

“I have chlamydia,” Lisa says.

Oh. So, not pregnant. Dean stares. Why the fuck is she here telling him this? It must have happened after they broke up, because he sure as shit didn’t have an STD at his check up six months ago when they were still together.

“Look,” Dean says, “I don’t know what you’re telling me this for, I didn’t give you _chlamydia,_ Lisa.”

“No, I know that. I got it from the guy I’m dating,” Lisa says slowly.

“Okay? I mean, that sucks and everything, but I’m pretty sure that one can be cleared up with antibiotics or something.”

“Yes, it can, I’ve already got a prescription.”

“Okay?” Dean folds his arms over his chest. This conversation is weird and he’d like it to stop.

“My boyfriend, Matt,” Lisa begins, and Dean flinches. Why is she telling him about her _boyfriend_? “Matt found out his ex-girlfriend had it. It sometimes doesn’t present symptoms, so people don’t always know they’re carrying it. So, Matt and I got tested, and we both had it.”

“Yeah?”

“And we didn’t always use a condom, so I may have gotten it at any point in the past two and a half months,” Lisa says softly.

Dean feels the bottom fall out of his stomach. “I beg your fucking pardon?”

“Dean…”

“I must have misheard you, Lisa. You can’t have said two and a half months, because you and I broke up less than six weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry. For what? Cheating on me? Waiting all this time and then dumping it on me? Possibly giving me a fucking STD, be specific.”

“For all of it, Dean! I’m so sorry, there’s no excuse.”

“No, there’s not. This fucking sucks. But I guess I should be thanking you. I have the next three days off and I was wondering how I’d fill the time. Now I get to spend my weekend trying to make a doctor appointment and tracking down my one night stand from last Saturday, so _thanks._ ” Dean sees the way Lisa’s eyes widen at the mention of the one night stand, and he glares. “Okay, you passed on your news like a responsible adult, you can go.”

“Dean, we need to talk about this.”

“No, we don’t. We’re broken up. Just get the fuck out of here, Lisa.”

“Dean.”

“GO!” Dean shouts. He’s never yelled at her before, and he’ll probably feel like an asshole later. Lisa sighs and nods, muttering a final apology before she closes the front door behind her.

“FUCK!!” Dean yells, hurling the nearest item across the room. It turns out to be a half full glass of orange juice, left out from this morning. It shatters against the kitchen wall, glass and juice going everywhere.

“So you had a nice talk with Lisa, I take it?”

Dean turns warily to see Sam, standing in the kitchen doorway. Sam is holding two paper bags full of groceries, and Dean grabs them to set them down on the counter.

“Where’s Jess?” Dean asks.

“At the store. We got home and realized we didn’t have garlic for dinner… what _happened_?”

“I thought you were eating out tonight? With the in-laws?”

“They canceled, Dean… what’s going on? Why was Lisa here? She wasn’t your hook up the other day, was she?”

“What? No! She was here to get something off her chest, I took it badly.”

“I’ll say.” Sam grabs a broom and dustpan while Dean grabs a dish towel. They work together, cleaning up the mess from Dean’s outburst.

“Lisa was cheating on me,” Dean says, wiping orange juice from the wall, “for like a month before she dumped me.”

Sam’s sweeping motions come to an abrupt halt. “Really?”

“I must be slipping in my old age, because I had _no_ idea she was cheating.”

“Wow, fuck Dean, that’s awful. She came all the way over here to confess that she cheated. That’s--”

“No. That’s not why. She told me because I might have caught something from her. From _them,_ ” Dean says bitterly.

The myriad of confused, concerned, and grossed out expressions that flitter across Sam’s face would be amusing if Dean was having a better day.

“What did she give you?”

“Chlamydia,” Dean says. God, what a gross word. Sam breathes a sigh of relief, and Dean shoots him an ugly look. “What the hell kind of reaction is that?”

“Sorry, it’s just… chlamydia, that’s… I mean it could have been worse news, Dean. It could have been HIV or herpes or something. Chlamydia is curable!” Sam gives Dean a hopeful smile, but Dean just scowls. “Come on, try to look on the bright side, man.”

“Yeah, well now I have to go get tested for an STD. Hell, I should get tested for all of them.”

“That’s probably a good idea. You should schedule an appointment now, the doctor’s office might still be open. Go make the call,” Sam says, shooing him, “I’ll finish up in here.”

Dean nods, pulling his phone out and heading to his room. He calls his doctor’s office, but they’re booked for at least a week, and his possible condition doesn’t exactly qualify him for an emergency appointment. The receptionist refers him to the free clinic in town, and mentions a Planned Parenthood about an hour away from Lawrence that might be able to get him tested sooner.

Dean decides he likes the idea of going out of town to be seen about this, and calls the Planned Parenthood office to schedule an appointment. He lucks out, and there’s an opening tomorrow morning. He thinks about tracking down Casper, but decides to wait until he knows if there’s actually something to tell. If a one night stand wasn’t really Casper’s thing, he’s probably not out infecting anyone.

Dean sits on the twin sized box spring and mattress he has on the floor in lieu of an actual bed and groans. This has been such a shitty month. He misses his bed. His nice, big bed he bought with Lisa, with the nice, comfortable, memory foam mattress. He gives serious consideration to demanding Lisa give him the bed as penance, but then he thinks about how she probably has had a bunch of chlamydia-sex on it with _Matt_. He takes a moment to let all the angst he’s storing up wash over him, eyes watering as he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling.

He must have zoned out for a while, because the next thing he knows, Sam is coming in the room to tell him that dinner is ready. He thinks about passing, but then Sam tells him they made spaghetti and garlic bread, and he acquiesces. Sam makes a great meatball.

 

***

 

On Friday morning, Dean drags himself out of bed and into the shower. By the time he’s in the Impala, he’s nervous and uncomfortable, and he’s not even at the clinic yet. The drive seems to take eons, and he’s too nervous to even listen to music.

When Dean arrives at Planned Parenthood, there are two men standing with picket signs on the sidewalk. Both men look about Dean’s age, but unlike him they’re dressed in nice suits and shoes. The shorter of the two is holding a picket sign that reads “EVERY LIFE IS PRECIOUS”, and the other has a giant photo of what Dean is assuming is an aborted fetus above the words “CAN YOU CONDONE THIS MURDER?” The man with the gross sign comes rushing up to Dean as soon as he’s out of his car.

“Sir?” The man sounds so _eager_. “Are you here to support Planned Parenthood’s Abortion Holocaust?”

Oh, Dean is so not interested in this bullshit. “Am I here to support _what?_ ”

“This facility supports the abortion industry, and if you--”

“Is this what you do all day? Lurk out here trying to scare women into keeping their unwanted pregnancies?”

“It’s not about scaring them, it’s about letting them know that there are options out there that don’t include murdering one of God’s children!” the man says emphatically, tucking a dark strand of hair behind his ear and looking around the empty parking lot in lieu of making eye contact with Dean.

Dean can feel the thin tendrils of his patience slipping through his fingers. These men probably have some power over the scared kids that come by here, but Dean’s not a scared kid, and he’s in a terrible mood.

“Look, assholes,” Dean growls, “I’m here to find out if my ex-girlfriend gave me chlamydia after cheating on me, and then I have to go track down the guy I fucked last weekend to let him know.”

The men look incredibly uncomfortable now, to Dean’s immense satisfaction. He leans in close to the dark haired man, putting as much menace into his face and voice as he can.

“You two can either leave your signs on the ground and run far, far away, or I can use you both to work out some pent up rage.”

The two men look at each other, then back at Dean, frightened deer expressions on their faces. Simultaneously, they lower their signs to the ground and take off running down the street, expensive shoes clicking loudly against the pavement.

“Don’t let me catch you here again!” Dean yells after them. He grabs the signs, ripping the poster boards into pieces and snapping the support sticks. He stuffs the ruined signs into the garbage can by the door to the clinic, and that’s when he looks up and realizes he’s being watched through the glass doors. Two teenage girls are staring at him like he’s the last doughnut in the box, there’s practically cartoon hearts in their eyes. When they realize he’s looking back at them, they jerk away from the glass, rushing out of sight.

The woman at the check-in desk gives Dean a pen and a stack of forms with a variety of personal questions for him to answer. He sits in the waiting room, glancing around. He’s the only man in the room, aside from a toddler playing with some blocks in the corner. Among the women waiting to be seen are the two girls that were watching earlier. They keep glancing over at Dean and giggling. He realizes that one of them is a good seven months pregnant and his heart clenches a little; she can’t be more than fifteen years old.

Dean’s filled out the first page of his forms when a teenage boy comes out from the medical area, looking pale, terrified, and clutching a small paper bag. He walks over to a girl typing on her phone and waits for her to notice him. Dean watches, pen hovering over the section about his medical history. He’s curious about why this kid looks like he’s going to throw up.

The girl on her phone finally looks up. “Did you get the condoms?” The boy nods. “Okay! Let’s go!” The boy shakes his head vigorously. “What’s wrong, Kevin?”

The boy, Kevin, clutches his bag tighter. “I think you should make an appointment too. For birth control pills.”

The girl sets her phone in her purse, barely paying attention. “Why? You have the condoms.”

“The woman I talked to gave me a lot of information about pregnancy and responsibility and did you know that girls _poop_ when they give birth? And sometimes things  _tear._ Like, down there.”

The two giggling girls stop what they’re doing and stare at Kevin in horror.

Kevin’s companion rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to get _pregnant,_ Kevin, that’s what the condoms are for.”

“They’re not one hundred percent effective! Do you want to end up pregnant in your first year of college?”

“Come on, that’s not going to happen. Let’s go.”

Kevin screeches so loudly that everyone turns to stare. “WE ARE NOT HAVING SEX UNTIL YOU’RE ON BIRTH CONTROL, CHANNING! I AM TOO BUSY TO BE A FATHER!”

Channing stares at Kevin, mouth hanging open, then yells “FINE!” and stomps up to the front desk. Dean wishes he’d recorded that with his phone.

He hears the pregnant girl whisper to her friend. “Am I going to _shit_ on the delivery table?!”

 

***

 

By the time it’s Dean’s turn he’s finished filling out his paperwork, and Channing and Kevin are loudly making out two chairs away from him. It’s a small relief to get called away.

The exam is one of the most uncomfortable experiences of Dean’s life. There’s a full STD panel, which among other things involves a blood draw, a urine sample, and a cotton swab going where Dean _never_ wanted a cotton swab to go. He's pretty sure the tests went differently when he did this at his doctor's office.

Half an hour after that he meets with a clinic worker named Pamela. She’s nice, professional, and offers kind words when she explains that Dean does in fact have chlamydia, but that on the plus side his HIV and gonorrhea tests are negative, and the rest of his test results will be in tomorrow. She explains the treatment, an antibiotic Dean will need to take twice a day for a week, and that he should consider getting additional testing done two to three months from now.

Dean thinks he does a pretty good job at not showing the fact that he’s screaming on the inside. It’s not like Dean’s never been sick before, but this seems… ickier. He wants to run out of the room and go take a scalding hot shower.

He receives a stern lecture about having unprotected sex with unknown partners, and makes Dean swear on his life that he will track Casper down. Pamela loads Dean down with every STD pamphlet in the room. She tells him it’s so he knows what symptoms to watch out for, but Dean thinks it’s probably to scare him into having more responsible sex.

Pamela also gives Dean a pamphlet about understanding sexuality and tells him that the clinic has some limited counseling services. Dean assumes this has something to do with the fact that in the space for sexual orientation on his form, he’d written “straight”, then crossed it out and added a bunch of question marks instead. When she offers him free condoms he shrugs and says “why not”, accepting the small paper bag.

When he exits the clinic, the two picketers are back, this time with flyers instead of signs. The blond one actually yelps at the sight of Dean, and the two of them drop their papers and take off running before Dean can even open his mouth.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean tries not to freak out as he drives back to Lawrence, because as he was told several times, chlamydia is completely treatable, but it’s still a damn STD in his body. Plus, now he has to track down Casper, and that won’t be fun. If the guy had wanted to see Dean again, he wouldn’t have left in the middle of the night.

Dean wonders if he should be calling Lisa, to confirm that he’s infected. He’s not quite sure about the etiquette of the situation. He decides not to call her. She doesn’t need to know whether or not Dean has chlamydia, she already knows that _she_ has it.

“This is all your fucking fault,” he says, glaring down at his lap.

Now that he knows he has chlamydia for sure, Dean feels uncomfortable, like people will be able to look at him and just _know_ he has an infection. When he stops for gas on his way to the pharmacy, he’s certain the cashier is disgusted by him. He could swear a woman walking to her car outside is giving him a dirty look. He _knows_ the pharmacist must know what the antibiotics are for, since she reiterates that Dean should complete his treatment as instructed, even if he thinks he’s better beforehand. He's blushing heavily on the way back to his car. He can't wait for today to be over.

 

***

 

Dean takes his first dose as soon as he gets home, then curses when he realizes the bottle says to take with a meal. He eats a bowl of Sam’s cereal and hopes that it counts.

He sits on his bed and pulls out his laptop. It was a gift from Sam, Jess, Bobby, and his parents, and aside from the Impala it’s the most expensive thing he owns. Sam claimed the gift was so Dean would stop browsing porn on his computer, but the gift came to him for no reason, a week after the break up with Lisa. Dean’s not usually a fan of blatant displays of pity being thrown his way, but in this case at least it got him a free laptop. And if he mostly uses it to download porn, well it’s _his_ laptop.

Okay. Time to find Casper. He opens his browser and types “Casper Norwick” into the search engine, frowning at the lack of results. All he’s finding are a few stray pages about a long dead man from South Dakota. He tries searching the name in Facebook’s search engine, but nothing comes up there either. He curses, rubbing his hand over his face, then tries a phone listing website. Nothing. For fuck’s sake. Dean had been so worried about how uncomfortable this was all going to be, he hadn’t stopped to consider that it might not be easy as pie to actually locate Casper. Is this guy Amish?

Wait. Maybe Dean’s remembering the name wrong. Dean’s starting to think Casper’s last name was Novak, not Norwick. He repeats his searches, this time looking up the name “Casper Novak”, but the results are just as unhelpful. Dean closes his laptop and storms out of his room, then wanders around the house aimlessly until he finds himself in the kitchen.

He spots a flyer for an antiquities display at a gallery in town taking place this weekend. Must be something Sam and Jess are going to. God, married people are fucking boring.

He starts assembling a sandwich, more out of boredom than actual hunger, and he’s about to add mayonnaise when a conversation he had in the bar suddenly comes back to him. A conversation where he learned how to correctly pronounce and spell the name Castiel. _Castiel_. Not fucking Casper.

Dean abandons his sandwich and runs back to his room. He searches for “Castiel Novak” and… bingo. A Facebook page. Dean’s heart thumps weirdly in his chest when he clicks the link. The page is mostly set to private, but Castiel’s profile picture and basic information are viewable. The picture is of Castiel, arms full of what look like National Geographic magazines, grinning at the camera. Castiel has a beautiful smile, shit. Castiel’s birthday is listed as February 1st, 1984. Wow, he's younger than Dean by a week. His former colleges are some Christian college Dean’s never heard of, plus the culinary program at a community college outside of Lawrence, and his workplace is a gourmet bakery in town that Dean has heard of but has never been to.

Dean chews on his bottom lip, thinking. Should he try to message Castiel online? Without being able to view the full page, there’s no way to know how regularly Castiel is online. A quick search of the bakery’s name yields a phone number, but this doesn’t seem like the sort of thing you lay on someone over the phone while they’re at work.

He dials the number anyway, just to see if Castiel is even working today, but the line is busy and he’s sent straight through to voicemail. The voice on the recording isn’t Castiel’s but it gives the hours of operation, apologizes that the staff is unable to receive his call, and asks him to leave his name and number at the tone. Dean doesn’t leave his name and number at the tone, instead he hangs up, waits three minutes, and calls again. It sends him to voicemail again, and he hangs up yet again. After another half hour of failing to get through, Dean finally gives up and leaves the house, snagging his keys on the way out.

 

***

 

It’s around three in the afternoon when Dean arrives at Angel Cakes. The building design looks a little familiar, Dean thinks this building was a Burger King at some point, and this feeling is confirmed when he walks inside and sees the layout. Definitely a former fast food place.

It’s pretty busy inside, but all the customers are seated at chairs and booths, eating their purchases and talking amongst themselves. There’s a definite theme in the restaurant. The walls, chairs, booths, and tables have been painted the same shade of sky blue, with swirls of fluffy white clouds painted in various places. There are large golden harp decals in a few places, and winged confections painted in random spots on the walls. Dean smiles at the angelic slice of pumpkin pie near the bathrooms. It’s certainly unique. There’s a counter at the front, but the typical fast food counter has been converted to include a large display case, with all manner of delicious looking treats beckoning Dean from inside the glass. The overhead menu has wings on each side, and lists the shop’s various pies, cakes, tarts, cookies, and more in fancy lettering. All in all, Dean wouldn’t have expected Castiel to work in a place like this.

There’s no one at the counter, so Dean rings the small bell next to the register. A man comes out from the back. He’s shorter than Dean, with medium-length light brown hair, and he’s holding a cordless phone to his ear, jabbering away. Well, now Dean knows why the line was busy.

“Hang on,” the man says into the phone, “I’ve got a customer.” He sets the phone down, and eyes that Dean might have to describe as ‘khaki’ give him a once over. “You look terrified. I promise the food here is good.”

Dean’s about to answer when the man tilts his head and frowns. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t think so? This is my first time here,” Dean says.

“Still, you look _super_ familiar. It’ll come to me. What can I get for you?”

“I’m uh… I’m actually looking for someone, I think he works here.”

“Pretty short list of employees in this joint, what’s his name?”

“Uh, Castiel. Castiel Novak.”

“You’ve come to the right place! One sec, he’s in the back.” The man disappears back the way he came, snagging the phone on his way. After a minute of nervous fidgeting, Castiel comes out. He’s wearing blue jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a black apron, all of it covered in flour. There are streaks of flour in his hair, and a smear of what looks to be pink frosting on his cheek.

Dear God in Heaven, he’s a pastry chef.

Castiel looks fairly stunned to see Dean, staring at him with wide, confused eyes. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

“I don’t recall telling you where I worked,” Castiel says warily.

“Uh… you didn’t. It was listed on your Facebook page.” When Castiel’s eyebrows go up Dean holds his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Hey, I’m not like, a crazy stalker, okay? I wouldn’t be hunting down the dude that ditched me while I was sleeping if it wasn’t important.”

Castiel winces a little. “I hurt your feelings.”

Dean scowls. “I’m a big boy, Castiel. I didn’t start crying because you left or some shit.” No, but he did _feel_ like crying.

“You look like I hurt your feelings.”

“Can we talk outside for a minute so I can go home? I left food out.”

Castiel nods and comes out from behind the counter, gesturing toward the door. They’re about to head out when the man from before appears from the back again, this time holding a half eaten cake pop instead of a phone.

“I know where I’ve seen you!” the man proclaims cheerfully. “There’s a photo of you sleeping on Cassie’s phone! You must be the guy that popped his cherry!”

Dean watches as Castiel’s eyes grow impossibly wider, color draining from his horrified face. “GABRIEL!” Castiel yells with so much venom and volume that the entire place goes quiet.

Gabriel’s mouth hangs open, cake pop fallen to the floor. “I’m a dead man, aren’t I?”

Castiel gives Gabriel a look of pure hate before slamming his way out the front door. Dean stares at Gabriel in shock before shaking the cobwebs in his brain loose and running out after Castiel.

Castiel stands on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, arms crossed defensively, scowling. The fact that he’s covered in flour and frosting does little to make him look less intimidating.

“Why are you here?” Castiel growls.

“You let me take your _virginity_? Jesus Christ, Cas! You should have told me!”

“I thought perhaps that sharing that I was a thirty year old virgin might put a damper on the mood,” Castiel grumbles.

“Still, if you waited this long, you must have been waiting for a reason. Your first time should have been… special.”

“It _was_ special. In its own way. The motel room was uniquely hideous, I enjoyed our intoxicated interactions, the sex felt good, I had a good experience,” Castiel says, then sighs. “For a long time, I didn’t have sex because I was religious, I was in a religious family. I was waiting until I met the right woman and gotten married, like I was supposed to. Then at some point I realized there would be no ‘right woman’, and I just… I got used to the idea that I would never have intercourse. The men I was with… something always held me back. And then I met you, and I wanted you, and I realized nothing was holding me back, and it’s as simple as that.”

“Thanks to a lot of vodka.”

“You’re wrong. I wanted you the minute I saw you,” Castiel says bluntly. His gaze is intense, certain, and Dean finds himself blushing and looking at his shoes.

“Then why did you leave?”

Castiel frowns. “I enjoyed our encounter. I didn’t want to damage the memory with an awkward morning after. I thought I was making it easy for the both of us. No uncomfortable goodbyes, or empty promises to call.”

“Well, maybe I _wanted_ the chance to call you,” Dean mutters.

“You mean that?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, looking at Castiel again, “kind of. I don’t know. Yes. I’m kind of… in the bisexual closet, and I’ve never _really_ dated a guy, but I remember falling asleep and thinking if I _was_ gonna date a guy, I’d um… you know what I feel like I’m exposing too much here, what’s with the photo of me sleeping?”

Castiel’s expression sours. “I am going to severely injure my brother.”

“Uh huh.”

“I… _suppose_ it was a memento. I had a good time, and I wanted something to remember you by. It was… less creepy in my head. I justified it by telling myself that you’d taken that photo of me and the painting, but… yeah, it was creepy. This is embarrassing.”

Ah, now they’re on even footing.

“Well,” Dean says with a sigh, “it’s about to get more embarrassing.”

“I can delete the photo.”

“No, that’s not… ugh. Cas, I found out that my ex-girlfriend cheated on me, and as a result gave me chlamydia, and since you and I didn’t end up using a condom…”

Castiel stares at Dean, mouth hanging open in an odd grimace.

“It’s uh… treatable and all,” Dean says. “They gave me antibiotics and said I should be good by the end of the bottle.”

“Chlamydia.”

“Uh, yeah. You should, you know… go to the doctor, or like I went to Planned Parenthood in Overland Park, or there’s the free clinic…”

“You… think I have chlamydia.”

“I think it’s pretty likely.”

Castiel bursts into laughter. It would be a beautiful sight, if it wasn’t kind of freaking Dean the fuck out.

“Um, I’m not making a joke here,” Dean says.

Castiel’s laughter dies down, and he looks at Dean with furrowed eyebrows. “I realize that.”

“Well, you’re laughing.”

“I had sex for the first time at _thirty,_ and probably contracted a sexually transmitted infection from it.”

“And that’s… funny?”

“It was definitely a special first time!” Castiel says, laughing again.

Dean waits until his laughter settles. “I’m so sorry about this, man. I assumed I was clean, and that was stupid. I should have been using my upstairs brain.”

“Yes, I believe we both got carried away.”

Dean nods. “I’m really sorry, Cas.”

“It’s alright, Dean. Well. It’s alright in the sense that I’m not angry.”

“Yeah. Uh, look. I’m going to let you get back to work, it seems like you were in the middle of something. Baking, and maybe murdering your brother, stuff like that.”

Castiel nods. “Thank you for coming to tell me. I’m sorry that your ex-girlfriend betrayed your trust.”

“Thanks. I wish she’d dumped me sooner, instead of… you know… cheating on me and giving me chlamydia. Would it have been that hard for her to just tell me she wanted someone else? Fuck. It’s fucked up.” Dean forces himself to stop talking and clenches his fists in frustration. “Sorry, I’m uh… I’m still kind of pissed. That was awkward. Uh, have a good day, Cas. Sorry.”

“Dean, wait,” Castiel says, but Dean hurries to his car, stuffing himself into the driver’s seat and closing his eyes. He leans his head against the steering wheel, muttering curses. He’s not only mad at Lisa in all this, he’s mad at himself too. He apparently wasn’t keeping her happy _and_ he was too stupid to notice she was seeing someone else. He didn’t see the breakup coming at all, and that feeling of being blindsided has really stuck with him.

He spends about three minutes berating himself before he realizes he could at least be doing this from the comfort of his room. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and is about to turn the car on when there’s a knock at his window. Castiel is peering at him with concern.

Dean rolls down the window, embarrassed. “Uh, hi. Sorry, I was thinking about shit. I’m going to go.”

“That’s fine,” Castiel says. He holds up a box. It’s cream colored cardboard, with the logo for Angel Cakes on it. He hands it to Dean through the window. “Don’t open that until you get home.”

“O-okay,” Dean says, eyeing the box.

“It’s just something we had in the shop. You seem like you could use a pick-me-up.”

Dean smiles down at the box in his lap, then up at Castiel. “Thanks… that’s... thank you.”

Castiel smiles back. “Have a good day, Dean.”

Castiel turns and strolls back into the bakery, looking remarkably untroubled in a way that Dean is terribly envious of. He sets the box on the passenger side seat and rolls his window back up.

He finds himself grinning as he drives home, because if he’s not mistaken, that’s the scent of apple pie filling his car.

 

 

***

 

Dean decides to save the pie for later, when Sam and Jess are off at another movie and he can park in front of the television in his sweat pants and watch whatever is on Food Network tonight.

Sam and Jess are home when he gets back, grading papers on the kitchen table over coffee. Dean makes the sandwich he abandoned earlier, chatting with Sam and Jess while he eats.

“So, Dean. You left your antibiotics on the counter,” Jess says casually.

Dean freezes, staring at Jess, then at Sam. “Uh.”

“Aw, come on, Jess,” Sam says.

“What do you have? Come on,” Jess says, ignoring Sam.

“Ugh, since when are you so nosy?” Dean grumbles.

“You’re the one that left them out!”

“Jess,” Sam warns.

Jess frowns. “Is it bad? Sorry, I just thought you had a rash or something.”

“Nah, it’s not… I mean it’s not life or death, but I found out Lisa gave me chlamydia.”

Jess spits out a mouthful of coffee and spills her mug all over her papers, swearing up a storm while Sam pushes his own papers out of the way. Damn, that girl is always making a mess. Dean grabs a roll of paper towels, handing them over to the still swearing Jess. He decides it was worth spilling the beans.

“The _mouth_ on you, Mrs. Winchester,” Dean teases.

“Says the guy with the clap,” Jess snarls.

“That’s gonorrhea, isn’t it?”

“I think it might be used for both,” Sam says.

Jess groans. “This conversation is gross.”

“Well that’s what you get for butting in!” Dean says.

Jess sticks her tongue out at him, still trying to salvage her students’ work. Her face switches to a frown suddenly. “How in the hell did Lisa give you anything? Is _she_ your mystery lay?”

“Jesus, you and Sammy share the same brain, that’s exactly what he asked. I’m actually kind of surprised he didn’t tell you already.”

Sam glares. “I can keep a secret.”

“Then how did Mom and Dad find out about that party I got drunk at in the tenth grade?”

“I can keep a secret _now._ ”

“Uh huh. Well anyway, no Jess, it wasn’t Lisa. We went over this, I told you the woman’s name,” Dean says. He’d remind her of the fake name, but he can’t remember what one he used. “I hadn’t even seen Lisa for weeks before she came to deliver the news that she had cheated on me, and had chlamydia.”

Jess’ small frown turns into something kind of scary and angry. “She _what_?!”

“Down, girl,” Sam says.

“I let her be one of my bridesmaids!” Jess yells, angrily shaking a handful of soggy papers.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean says.

“Do you want me to kick her ass, Dean? Because I will. I will kick her _ass._ ”

Dean smiles. “I think her guilt and chlamydia will have to be punishment enough.”

“You must be really hurt, I am _so_ sorry, Dean.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I want to talk about that…”

“I get it,” Jess says, “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Deany-bear.”

Sam and Dean both raise an eyebrow at Jess, mouthing “Deany-bear?” at each other.

Jess shrugs. “I don’t even know.” She looks down at her pile of soggy papers and groans. “I guess everyone’s getting an A this week.”

 

***

 

A few hours later, Dean is playing some boring farm game on Facebook when there’s a knock on the door to his room. Sam walks in without waiting for an answer.

“Dude! What if I’d been jerking off in here?” Dean says.

Sam wrinkles his nose. “I uh… assumed you wouldn’t be, with your um… condition.”

Dean frowns, looking down at his crotch. “I… hadn’t really thought about that. Fuck. I’ve got chlamydia-sperm.”

“You can go a week or so without having a go at yourself, I’m sure. Like seventy percent sure.”

“Yeah, I _can._ ”

“Yeah, sure. Remember to throw the sock out and wash your hands with antibacterial soap when you’re done.”

“Did you come in here for a _reason_ , Sam?!”

“Yeah. Jess and I thought you might like to come with us to the movies tonight?”

The scowl that had worked its way onto Dean’s face softens. “You wanna bring me along on your date?”

“It sounds weird when you say it like that.”

Dean smiles. “That’s sweet of you guys, but I have plans.”

“You mean Cupcake Wars and whatever’s in that box in the fridge?”

“Shows what you know. Cupcake Wars airs _tomorrow_!”

“I guess… but… Dean, I wish you’d come out with us. I feel like all you do is work or hang out here. You’re not hanging out with friends or anything like that.”

Dean opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. Sam is right, there’s no point in acting otherwise. Since the breakup, Dean’s really retreated socially. A lot of the people he socialized with were also friends with Lisa, and Dean didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness. There’s the people at the garage, but when they talk about getting together to play poker or watch a game, Dean finds an excuse not to join them. The pieces of his life got all shook up with Lisa’s rejection, and nothing fits quite the way it used to.

“I’m okay with things the way they are,” Dean says, “for now, anyway. I like my boring nights, and my Food Network shows. I tried switching things up last week and ended up having to track down my one night stand so I could say I have chlamydia. I think I’m okay having quiet nights alone. Besides, I may not hang out with many friends, but I still see my best friend every single day.”

Sam looks confused. “Who do you see every day?”

Dean sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “ _You_ , Sam. You’re my best friend.”

Sam slaps his forehead. “That was dumb. Let’s pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Anyway,” Dean says, rolling his eyes, “you guys go ahead. I know it seems boring, but I _like_ watching Food Network.”

“Suit yourself. Have fun playing Farmtopia or Farmapalooza or whatever,” Sam says. He walks out, closing Dean’s door behind him.

“These strawberries aren’t going to harvest _themselves,_ Sammy!” Dean yells.

 

***

 

Once Sam and Jess leave, Dean changes into an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats before making his way to the kitchen. He pulls the box from Angel Cakes from the fridge and fetches a knife and fork. He pops open the lid and sucks in a surprised breath. Not at the apple pie, though that does look delicious, but at the post-it note stuck to the underside of the box lid. It has Castiel’s name and cellphone number on it, with a little drawing of a smiling cupcake.

Dean cuts himself a slice of pie and puts it into the microwave, glancing at the post-it every few seconds. Does this guy that he likely gave chlamydia to _like_ him? The past several weeks have been full of surprises; the breakup, the free laptop, the chlamydia, finding out Sam dated Brady, waking up alone in that hideous motel room. For some reason, this is the most shocking surprise yet.

 


	5. Chapter 5

All through Dean’s shows, and his second and third slices of _fucking delicious_ pie, Dean keeps glancing down at the pocket of his sweats, where the post-it currently resides. He wants to call, he does, but he doesn’t know why Castiel put the number there. Maybe he was just being polite, although okay no, that makes no sense. Maybe it’s a friendship thing. Probably. The cupcake drawing looked friendly. It’s probably a friendship thing. Dean’s not sure if that likelihood is a relief or a disappointment. Maybe that Gabriel guy put the number in the box as a prank. He struck Dean as the type. Shit. Maybe Dean can send a text, that’s less nerve-wracking. He watches the end of the show, then goes to his room to fetch his phone.

He’s staring at the phone in his hand intently when he hears Sam and Jess come home. There’s a lot of giggling, then a yelp, then he hears the door to their room closing. Ah, young love.

Dean takes a few deep breaths, then sends a text to the number on his post-it.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 10:17pm - I ate half of that pie in one sitting.

That seems innocuous enough. It’s acknowledging the gift, it’s not awkward, it’s basically complimentary. Dean hopes so, anyway. He doesn’t text many people. He waits for a few minutes before he figures he should take his next antibiotic dose while he still has a bunch of pie in him.

When he comes back upstairs, there’s a new text waiting for him.

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 10:28pm - I hope that wasn’t your dinner.

Dean smiles, something warm flaring to life in his chest.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 10:31pm - It was. But I had a late lunch, if that helps.

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 10:32pm - I’m terribly disappointed in you, honestly.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 10:35pm - I’m a grown up! I can have poe for dinner!

SENT - 04/11/14 - 10:35pm - *pie

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 10:37pm - Poe? As in Edgar Allen Poe? Are you eating his remains for dinner, because that sounds fairly illegal.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 10:38pm - PIE

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 10:41pm - He’s been dead a long time, I doubt there’s anything significant left on his bones.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 10:44pm - piepiepiepiepiepiepiepie

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 10:47pm - Not to mention it would be disrespectful of his legacy.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 10:48pm - PIE. WARM APPLE PIE

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 10:52pm - Let me ask you something, Dean. How did you reheat the pie? Microwave, or oven? Or did you eat it cold?

SENT - 04/11/14 - 10:53pm - Microwave.

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 10:59pm - I see.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 11:00pm - What’s wrong with that?

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:05pm - It will retain more of the intended texture if you reheat it in the oven at about 300, maybe 350 degrees.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 11:07pm - For how long?

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:10pm - Until it’s ready. Probably about 15 minutes.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 11:16pm - So to eat ONE slice of pie I should preheat the oven and wait 15+ minutes?!

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:17pm - Yes.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 11:19pm - You sound particular.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 11:20pm - I meant that in the nicest way possible.

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:21pm - Why have a good slice of pie when you can have a GREAT slice of pie, Dean?

SENT - 04/11/14 - 11:30pm - Okay, I’ll try it your way tomorrow, but only because I feel guilty.

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:33pm - Guilty for what?

Dean stares at his phone incredulously.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 11:35pm - chlamydia

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:39pm - Oh. Haha, don’t I feel stupid.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 11:41pm - At least you’re pretty.

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:46pm - I did some research on the affliction today.

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:49pm - There was an article about STDs laying dormant in a person’s stomach even after being cured. Or maybe it was mice.

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:50pm - Either way they were randomly reinfected.

SENT - 04/11/14 - 11:52pm - WHAT THE FUCK?

RECEIVED - 04/11/14 - 11:59pm - Well the research was a bit spotty.

SENT - 04/12/14 - 12:01am - GOD WELL THEN WHY DID YOU TELL ME

RECEIVED - 04/12/14 - 12:04am - I thought it was interesting?

SENT - 04/12/14 - 12:06am - Why are you so calm about this? It’s freaking me out. I probably made you sick.

RECEIVED - 04/12/14 - 12:09am - Well, I could berate you and say angry things, but it would be insincere.

SENT - 04/12/14 - 12:11am - I’m jealous of how calm you are about this.

RECEIVED - 04/12/14 - 12:13am - Well as much as I would enjoy basking in your jealousy, I’m actually quite tired.

SENT - 04/12/14 - 12:14am - night, Cas

RECEIVED - 04/12/14 - 12:20am - Try to stay calm, Dean. It’s chlamydia. It doesn’t have to be the end of the world.

Kind of an odd thing to say, but Dean falls asleep smiling anyway.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Texting Castiel quickly becomes part of Dean’s routine. The conversations are never deep, maybe even forgettable, but damn if they don’t brighten his day. Even when they’re discussing their STD results, or when Castiel forgets to take a meal with one of his doses of antibiotics and spends half an hour texting Dean about how nauseous he is, Dean smiles. It’s been a long time since he made a new friend, even longer since he made one that wasn’t through Lisa or through the garage. He feels a little proud of himself, even if this only started because Castiel decided to give Dean his phone number.

Dean still occasionally wonders if Castiel was looking for more than friendship. He wonders if he’d be capable of giving more. He hasn’t spoken to his dad in weeks, and yet there’s this ugly worry in the back of his head about how John would react. Every time Dean thinks of asking Castiel if he’d maybe like to see a movie, or come over and watch Food Network, or go grab a burger, he pictures his dad finding out and flipping his lid.

John Winchester would _not_ be pleased to find out Dean is dating a man. Dean barely talks to his father, doesn’t exactly care to, but still a memory of John’s disappointment and anger from over a decade ago holds Dean back. The thought of disappointing his father has always terrified Dean. When he was a kid for sure, but even as an adult, he still fears letting John down, and seems to do it frequently anyway.

Dean is startled out of his thoughts when someone drops something nearby in the garage. He bangs his head on the underside of the truck he’s working on and slides out from underneath, muttering expletives. He shoots a glare at Benny, who is crouched down to retrieve the wrench he dropped.

Benny raises an eyebrow at Dean’s death glare. “You got a problem, Kitten?”

Dean glares even harder. “You made me hit my head, dick!”

“I _made_ you, huh?”

“Shut up. And don’t call me Kitten, god damn it.”

“Get back to work, Kitten!” Bobby says, passing by on his way to his office.

“Screw both of you! It’s my break anyway,” Dean huffs, pretending not to notice how petulant he sounds as he stomps off to the break room. He grabs a soda and switches his phone on. There are no new texts from Castiel, but he sends one anyway.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 1:29pm - I hate when the guys at work call me KITTEN.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 1:32pm - Kitten? Really?

Oh fuck, why did he tell Castiel that?

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 1:33pm - Why do they call you Kitten?

SENT - 04/23/14 - 1:36pm - A year ago A YEAR AGO… I breathed in a bunch of dust and sneezed.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 1:38pm - Benny joked that I sounded like a kitten sneezing. The nickname stuck.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 1:40pm - I’m normally a very manly sneezer, FYI.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 1:40pm - That’s adorable.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 1:41pm - I’m sure you have very butch sneezes.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 1:42pm - Damn right, I do.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 1:45pm - I’m sorry the other kids are teasing you, honey. If you want, I’ll talk to their parents.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 1:47pm - You suck.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 1:52pm - If you’d like a pick-me-up, swing by the bakery before 6.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 1:53pm - !!!

Dean is grinning down at his phone when Bobby walks in. “You’ve been on your fifteen for twenty-five minutes, kid.”

“Yeah, well I get five extra minutes for each use of ‘Kitten’, old man.”

“Well then your time’s still up, ain’t it? Get your ass out there.”

Dean sticks his tongue out at Bobby, but turns off his phone and goes back to work.

 

***

 

Dean is nervous as he heads to Angel Cakes. He hasn’t actually seen Castiel since he delivered his awkward news. His heart is fluttering like he’s some kid with a crush, he feels ridiculous.

It’s pretty empty when Dean arrives at the bakery, the only customers are two older women, eating tarts and admiring the clouds on the walls. Castiel is at the register, streaks of flour in his hair and clothes again, and a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Dean wonders if everyone with his job looks this way, or if Castiel is a particularly messy chef. He looks tired, but brightens considerably when he spots Dean.

“Hello, Kitten.”

“I will walk right back out that door I swear to God, Cas.”

“If you leave, you won’t get your treat.”

Dean grins. “I do like treats.”

Castiel smiles back, setting a box on the counter. Dean reaches over to open it, and Castiel smacks his hand away, drawing a yelp out of him.

“What the hell, man?” Dean whines.

“That’s for later.”

Dean pouts, but smiles and takes the box. It’s bigger than the pie boxes, so Dean’s a little excited.

Castiel glances at the clock on the wall and sighs. “I’d better start getting ready to close.”

“Want me to muscle those old ladies out of here?”

“I think I can handle them, but I’ll keep your offer in mind the next time I need someone to scare away unruly teenagers.”

“Yeah I’ll fuck those kids up, no problem.” The two women look over at Dean in alarm, so he smiles awkwardly at them and gives a thumbs up.

“You’re very charming,” Castiel says. “Enjoy your treat, Dean.”

Dean waves goodbye to Castiel then scurries out of the shop under the glare of scandalized customers.

 

***

 

Sam and Jess are in the kitchen cooking when Dean gets home, and Jess narrows her eyes when she sees the bakery box Dean is carrying.

“I hope you’re not having _dessert_ for dinner, Dean,” she scolds.

“You’re not my mom!” Dean says.

Jess hits him with a dish towel. “Don’t sass me, young man. Now put that away and wash up, we’re having fettuccine alfredo in ten minutes.”

As Dean heads to put away his coat and wash his hands, he hears Sam talking. “Is it weird that I found that hot?”

Dinner is delicious, but once it’s finished Dean finds himself eyeing his box from the bakery while Sam does the dishes.

“What’d you get?” Sam asks.

“Don’t know, actually. It’s a surprise.”

“Do they sell mystery boxes or something?” Sam asks, sounding intrigued.

“Nah, nothing like that. I’m buddies with the guy that made it, he gave it to me after I was bitching about the guys at work.”

“Aw, are they calling you Kitten again?”

Dean glares. “Yes, actually.”

“You get riled up about the dumbest shit, Dean.”

“Is that so, _Samantha_?”

Sam doesn’t even blink before grabbing the bottle of dish soap and squirting it onto Dean’s shirt.

 

***

 

Sam is still doing dishes when Dean has finished changing his shirt, so he shoots him a glare on his way to the bakery box. He sets it on the counter, flips open the lid, and… scowls. It’s a plain white frosted sheet cake, but Castiel has drawn a kitten hanging from a tree branch in various colors of decorative frosting, with “HANG IN THERE, KITTEN!” written in fancy lettering at the bottom.

“Jeez, what are you so angry abou--” Sam cuts himself off with a burst of laughter so loud Dean winces and moves away. Before Dean even knows what’s happening, Sam snaps a photo of the cake and runs into the living room to show Jess. Her hysterical laughter comes seconds later. Dean hates everyone.

Still glaring, Dean cuts a piece right out of the the center of the cake, leaving an empty, lopsided square where the kitten’s head should be. He takes a photo of the cake with his phone.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 7:39pm - you think you’re REAL funny don’t you

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 8:03pm - Yes.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 8:13pm - <IMAGE ATTACHED>

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 8:19pm - Do you always show your thanks via decapitation?

SENT - 04/23/14 - 8:21pm - Yes. I hate kittens now.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 8:29pm - <IMAGE ATTACHED>

The image loads, a grainy photo of a black and white kitten sleeping on a jean-clad lap.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 8:30pm - Even sweet little Ezekiel?

SENT - 04/23/14 - 8:34pm - You named a kitten EZEKIEL?

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 8:39pm - It was the first name she responded to.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 8:43pm - You named a GIRL kitten Ezekiel?

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 8:50pm - Ezekiel doesn’t care whether or not society feels her name is gender appropriate.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 8:53pm - Right. So when did you get a kitten?

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 8:56pm - About two hours ago.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 8:58pm - Are you serious?

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 9:03pm - One of the elderly women in the shop told me her cat had birthed a litter of kittens recently, and that it was time for them to have homes.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 9:05pm - I decided that with all the mentions of kittens today, it was a sign.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 9:11pm - I thought you weren’t religious.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 9:13pm - That doesn’t mean I can ignore a sign from the UNIVERSE, Dean.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 9:17pm - You’re ridiculous.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 9:24pm - I need to find an open store. I bought the wrong kind of cat food. :( I will talk to you later.

RECEIVED - 04/23/14 - 9:26pm - Don’t eat that entire cake tonight.

SENT - 04/23/14 - 9:30pm - No promises.

Dean doesn’t eat the whole cake, but he wants to.

 

***

 

SENT - 05/09/14 - 8:03am - holy shit cas ive gained eight pounds

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 10:14am - Oops. Should I stop plying you with free desserts?

SENT - 05/09/14 - 11:06am - Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not make any hasty decisions.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 11:09am - I was just going to say I might start running a few days a week.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 11:10am - Or buy bigger pants.

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 11:31am - Running is an excellent idea. I try to do a four mile run at least a few mornings each week.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 1:45pm - gross

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 2:00pm - In my line of work, it’s important to stay active.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 2:14pm - Aw I bet you’d look cute with some pudge on you.

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 2:17pm - Do I not look cute now?

Dean stares at his phone indignantly. It seems so ridiculous of him to ask, but then again, their one sexual encounter was weeks ago. Maybe he honestly doesn’t know that Dean finds him hot as fucking hell, and _hopefully_ he doesn’t know that now that Dean’s done with his antibiotics, Castiel has a lead role in his masturbatory fantasies.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 2:23pm - Come on, you know you’re sewing.

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 2:40pm - Sewing? I don’t remember saying I was sewing?

SENT - 05/09/14 - 2:45pm - What?

SENT - 05/09/14 - 2:48pm - Stupid autocorrect. I meant sewing.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 2:49pm - Segway.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 2:49pm - SEWING

SENT - 05/09/14 - 2:53pm - WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS FUCKING PHONE I AM TRYING TO SAY S E X Y

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 4:06pm - Thank you for that. I laughed so hard I dropped my phone on my newly finished cake and had to remake it.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 4:11pm - Ha!

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 4:15pm - Which means that there’s a slightly ruined and possibly unsanitary cake up for grabs.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 4:20pm - You have my attention.

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 4:26pm - Well, it’s a chocolate cake, fudge between the layers, white buttercream frosting.

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 4:27pm - And it says “Happy 64th Birthday, Edna Greenblatt” in pink letters.

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 4:28pm - Actually it says “Greenbla”, since my phone fell on it.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 4:33pm - Fuck that sounds amazing. I’ll see you in a couple hours.

 

***

 

SENT - 05/09/14 - 9:57pm - I decided to start sharing my desserts with my brother and his wife.

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 10:11pm - Start? Have you been eating them all by yourself?

SENT - 05/09/14 - 10:15pm - uh yeah

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 10:30pm - I gave you a DOZEN cupcakes on Tuesday.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 10:33pm - yeah

SENT - 05/09/14 - 10:34pm - They were really good.

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 10:36pm - You ate them ALL?

SENT - 05/09/14 - 10:40pm - Yeah?

RECEIVED - 05/09/14 - 10:43pm - I think I’m starting to understand the weight gain.

SENT - 05/09/14 - 10:50pm - They were SO tasty.

 

***

 

SENT - 05/19/14 - 3:11pm - What are you up to?

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 3:17pm - I have wild plans for this evening.

Dean feels his heart plummet through to his stomach. Castiel has wild plans. Castiel has a _date._ Why wouldn’t he? He’s funny, he’s smart, he’s gorgeous, he makes delicious vanilla cream filled cupcakes, and Dean is too busy hanging out in the closet to ask him out.

SENT - 05/19/14 - 3:20pm - Sweet! What’s on the agenda?

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 3:26pm - I spent $150 on some sort of kitten jungle gym yesterday. Tonight I’m putting it together.

Dean’s too busy gaping at the price to be relieved.

SENT - 05/19/14 - 3:31pm - 150 DOLLARS???

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 3:33pm - The sad thing is, I only went into the pet store for a food dish.

SENT - 05/19/14 - 3:39pm - Can’t she eat out of a bowl?

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 4:00pm - Of course. That’s what I was using before, but I thought it would be nice for her to have her own special dish.

SENT - 05/19/14 - 4:13pm - Awwwwww.

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 4:33pm - You’re being mocking to the person who’s been supplying you with delicious free desserts? Is that wise?

SENT - 05/19/14 - 4:39pm - Damn, you and your delicious food own my ass.

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 4:40pm - Your ass?

SENT - 05/19/14 - 4:45pm - Figuratively speaking of course. I’m not some kind of pastry whore.

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 4:48pm - If you say so.

SENT - 05/19/14 - 4:50pm - Hey, fuck you!

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 4:53pm - :)

 

***

 

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 7:22pm - I’ve made a terrible mistake.

SENT - 05/19/14 - 7:29pm - ??

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 7:33pm - I made the assumption that I could easily put this together if I just followed the instructions.

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 7:35pm - It was an incorrect assumption.

SENT - 05/19/14 - 7:38pm - Having some trouble there?

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 7:41pm - Please tell me you’ll come help me put this together.

Dean wonders how pathetic it is that a request to help build a cat condo has his heart beating faster.

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 7:42pm - You’re my last hope.

Dean can’t help but frown at that.

SENT - 05/19/14 - 7:44pm - I’m your last choice?

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 7:46pm - I was worried this might fall outside the boundaries of our friendship.

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 7:50pm - Mostly we text and then I give you food and we chat. I didn’t want to overstep.

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 7:54pm - It doesn’t mean you were the least desirable option.

RECEIVED - 05/19/14 - 7:59pm - Dean?

SENT - 05/19/14 - 8:03pm - couldnt find my car keys

SENT - 05/19/14 - 8:04pm - address???

 

***

 

Castiel lives in a studio apartment, in what looks a lot like a converted one story motel. It’s not far from the bakery, and with traffic it's about a twenty minute drive from where Dean lives. Dean’s a little surprised, for some reason he pictured Castiel living in some nice big house, since he owns his own business, a thought he awkwardly blurts out when he arrives. Castiel smiles at that, while Dean prays for a bolt of lightning to come kill him now.

“I actually sunk most of my money into starting the bakery. Plus a bank loan. Plus a loan from Gabriel,” Castiel says, helping Dean out of his coat. “The shop is doing well, but the nice house will have to wait a little bit longer. Especially when I'm making expensive impulse buys at the pet store.”

“I hope you don’t think I was looking down on you,” Dean says quickly, “I think what you’ve done is awesome. You own a great bakery, I’m a mechanic living in his brother’s guest room. My job isn’t even full time.”

“It’s not a contest, Dean,” Castiel says with a frown.

“I just don’t want you thinking my comment meant something.”

Castiel tilts his head, a concerned furrow to his brows. “Are you okay?”

“I’m so fucking nervous,” Dean mutters, “I don’t even know why.”

“From what you’ve told me, going to a friend’s home isn’t something you’ve done a lot of in the past months, perhaps your people skills are rusty.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“I understand how a breakup can upend one’s sense of self. I’ve endured that experience more than once.”

“I thought I took your virginity?”

Castiel’s expression turns amused. “You did. Not all romantic relationships blossom into something sexual, and not all sexual contact constitutes a loss of virginity.”

“Uh, yeah. Right I think I remember you saying this before.”

“You really don’t need to be so nervous, Dean. All we’re going to do is assemble this structure.”

“That you spent over a hundred dollars on.”

“Again, you are mocking the man that keeps you in cupcakes.”

“Hey, you can’t keep holding that over my head!”

“Says who?”

Dean walks past Castiel, finally taking in the room. It’s bigger than his own, with the walls covered in nature photographs. Landscapes, skyscapes, photos of oceans and lakes, forests and deserts, with very few spaces of the wall uncovered.

“Wow,” Dean says eloquently.

“Calendars.”

“Huh?”

“When I moved in, I bought quite a few discounted calendars at the mall. I separated all the pages and used them to decorate.”

“That’s a pretty cool idea.”

Castiel smiles. “I got the idea from Gabriel, actually. He did the same thing when we were younger. Although instead of the beauty of Earth, he wallpapered his room with pictures from calendars full of scantily clad women. Our parents were quite displeased.”

“Sounds like an awesome room,” Dean says with a leer.

Castiel shoves him lightly. “Don’t be creepy.”

The pieces of the cat structure are strewn about on Castiel’s bed. All Dean can see are pieces of sturdy wood, mostly covered in the thick carpet Dean’s seen on scratching posts. He can’t imagine dropping more than twenty dollars on this, Castiel is fucking crazy.

“You’d think for a hundred and fifty bucks it would come put together,” Dean says, reaching for the instruction sheet. The assembly instructions come with a section listing all the parts that should be in the box. Dean takes a few minutes to separate and sort the mess, making sure every bolt, bracket, and screw is there before looking over the assembly diagram. It’s a little complex, but nothing he can’t do in his sleep. There’s a black toolbox on the bed, which Dean opens. He stares. The tools inside are of decent quality, but they’re… pink. Bright, electric pink handles and grips on everything. He looks up at Castiel, who sighs.

“A gift from Gabriel.”

Dean grins, and takes out the tools he’ll need while Castiel moves things out of a corner of the room, presumably for the finished product.

Dean’s been working for twenty minutes when Castiel offers to make sandwiches, smiling at Dean’s vigorous head nod. Dean pauses to watch Castiel bustle about in the kitchen area.

“That’s a pretty pitiful kitchen for someone who bakes for a living.”

“I agree,” Castiel says. “If I want to make anything particularly ambitious, I usually go to Gabriel’s, or to the bakery. It can be odd cooking a personal meal in someone else’s kitchen, but sometimes it’s worth it. When I finally move into a bigger apartment, or a house, a big kitchen will be a must.”

“It’s going to be a _bitch_ taking down all those pictures when you move,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles and hums in agreement, turning back to whatever he’s making. Various scents begin to fill the apartment. Dean doesn’t know what Castiel is making, but it smells amazing.

He’s not sure how much time has passed, but when he finishes the cat condo it stands at a little over five feet tall. He has an odd moment of wishing he was a cat, so that he could enjoy the ladders, posts, compartments, and hanging toys the structure has, maybe sharpen his claws on the beige carpeting that covers most of it. He feels proud of his work, it’s been ages since he actually built something.

“Oh wow, it looks just like the picture,” Castiel says, sounding awed. He pulls a folding table and two folding chairs out from under his bed, setting them up while Dean washes his hands. When he comes out, there are two plates and a bottle of ketchup on the table. There’s a pile of what look to be homemade fries on each plate, and on each plate a philly cheesesteak sandwich. Oh, fuck yes.

Dean rubs his hands together, grinning as he sits. “This looks incredible, Cas. When you said sandwiches, I thought you’d throw some cold cuts together between two slices of bread, since that’s what _I’d_ do.”

Castiel smiles and takes his seat. “I wanted to show my appreciation. You came all this way and you did such a wonderful job. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean feels himself blush. He smiles at Castiel, then squirts some ketchup onto his plate to try one of his fries. “Ugh, these are amazing. Fucking hell.”

“It’s actually fairly easy, if you have potatoes, flour, water and a few spices.”

Dean takes a bite of his sandwich, groaning obscenely at the flavors, eyes fluttering closed. Sam and Jess are both great cooks, but they’ve definitely never made a sandwich like this. When he opens his eyes, Dean realizes Castiel is staring at him. Castiel looks startled and clears his throat awkwardly, taking another bite of his sandwich. Huh. Interesting.

“This is so good, Cas. I never want this sandwich to end.”

“Your enthusiasm is heartwarming,” Castiel says. “I mean that.”

Dean grins, then yelps when he feels something brushing against his leg. For a moment he thinks it’s Castiel, but a quick glance down reveals a familiar black and white kitten.

“Well if it isn’t the little beast I just made a kickass condo for,” Dean says.

Castiel peeks over the side of the table, smiling when he spots Ezekiel. “I was wondering if she would come out of hiding. She vanished under the bed as soon as you knocked.”

“I bet she wants my sandwich,” Dean says. As if she understands, Ezekiel looks up at Dean and meows. Dean takes a spiteful bite of his sandwich, raising his eyebrows in a challenge to the kitten. She stares at him for a moment before moving on to Castiel.

“Way to stand your ground, Dean,” Castiel says.

“She respects me now.”

Castiel gets up, moving over to the counter. There’s a stack of cans in various colors, with pictures of adorable kittens and different flavor names on them. Dean takes an amused bite out of his sandwich while Castiel considers each option carefully.

“She’s a _cat,_ dude,” Dean says. Castiel shoots him a glare, but finally picks a can to open and empty into a bowl. “I thought you bought her a cat dish?”

“No that was what I was _going_ to buy. Then I got distracted by all the toys and structures and forgot all about it. I thought about going back tonight, but who knows what else I'd end up buying.”

“That’s pretty hilarious.”

Castiel, mature business owner, sticks his tongue out at Dean. He grabs the bowl of food, placing it on top of the structure, then picks up Ezekiel. He holds the kitten up over the food until she’s about to start eating, then puts her on the floor, watching with a pleased expression when she immediately makes her way back to where the food is.

“The man at the pet store suggested I do that, and rubbing catnip on it to get her interested.”

“Starting her on drugs already? How old is she?”

“Four months, I believe. She’s old enough for catnip, she already has one surgery under her belt.”

Dean frowns. “Surgery? What was wrong with her?”

“Nothing, her previous caretaker had her spayed a few weeks ago.”

“A goldfish would be so much easier to deal with, if you ask me. They don’t go into heat, or pee on your stuff.”

Castiel takes a few photos of Ezekiel with his phone. “But are they this adorable?”

“Like you don’t go all mushy at the sight of a fish with those big eyes and that weird line of poop that comes out.”

“Exactly.”

Castiel goes back to taking photos of Ezekiel as she finishes her food and begins poking around the structure. Dean’s finished with his sandwich and fries, so he starts pilfering from Castiel’s plate. Honestly, Ezekiel _is_ adorable, and Dean kind of wants a cat of his own. Sam and Jess would let him, he’s sure, but he’s also sure they’d tease him about being a lonely spinster cat lady.

“So you’re liking this whole… pet thing?” Dean asks.

Castiel turns to face Dean, opening his mouth to answer and pausing when he clearly notices that all but two of his fries are gone. He narrows his eyes at Dean, who summons his most innocent looking smile.

“I thought I should eat them before they went bad?”

Castiel rolls his eyes before moving over to the table to push his plate over to Dean, who ignores the remaining fries in favor of the half-eaten sandwich.

“Absolutely appalling manners,” Castiel mutters. “In answer to your earlier question, I am enjoying cat ownership immensely. I’ve never had a pet before, and it’s nice to have someone to come home to. Even if that someone only speaks in meows. Also, now that I’ve made this ridiculous purchase, I’ll feel less guilty about leaving her alone in this boring apartment all day.”

“So, it was _guilt_ that made you buy it.”

“Maybe a bit.”

There’s a sound of a tinkling bell, and they both turn to see Ezekiel playing with one of the toys hanging on the structure.

“I’m going to suggest taking those off at night,” Dean says.

“I think that’s probably a good idea.”

Dean’s phone beeps in his pocket and he takes it out, surprised to see that it’s after eleven. How the hell did that happen? The beeping turns out to be a text from Sam, asking him to pick up bread when he does his walk of shame in the morning. Dean scowls at the phone, firing back a text about how much of a bitch Sam is.

“That’s not a happy look,” Castiel says.

“It’s just my brother. He thinks I’m out having some sort of _illicit encounter._ Who the hell has illicit encounters on a Monday?”

“I take it that sort of thing is more suited for the weekend.”

“Of course, who wants to go to work the morning after a hook up?”

“I did after our encounter. Hannah called in sick, I had to go in.”

Dean knows from one of their text conversations that when he first started the shop, Castiel was working sixteen hour days for months at a time without a break before Gabriel convinced him they were doing well enough to take on help. On weekdays, Hannah and Ephraim come in to do the early prep work, then later in the morning Castiel comes to open the shop, then it’s mostly Castiel baking up a storm, with Gabriel running the register or pitching in back in the kitchen. On weekends, Hannah and Ephraim are there all day while Chuck mans the register. Sometimes when it’s busy Castiel goes in anyway, but mostly he gets his weekends off. Castiel is a hard worker, and Dean can’t help but be impressed by that.

“Dean?”

Dean startles out of his train of thought. How long has he been zoning out thinking about Castiel’s _work ethic_? “Uh… what were we talking about?”

“Your brother thinking you were out having sex, I suppose.”

“Oh, right. I think he keeps waiting for me to turn into the skank I was before I started dating Lisa, but I don’t have it in me to go out looking for easy sex or whatever. I tried it once and look what happened.”

Castiel smiles. “I’m not sorry about what happened.”

“I infected you with an STD, Cas.”

“I’m disease free now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but-”

“But nothing. I made an interesting and funny new friend, and all it cost me was a couple of uncomfortable doctor visits and a round of antibiotics. We made a mistake not using a condom when we didn’t _know_ it was safe, and something much more terrible could have happened. But it didn’t, so I don’t regret what happened. I was a coward sneaking out that night, and I’m grateful that there was something that brought you back to me. Chlamydia was a small price to pay to correct my terrible error.”

Dean doesn’t think anyone’s said anything like that to him in a very, very long time. He can’t help it if his reaction is to rise so fast his chair topples over and take Castiel’s face in his hands, smashing their mouths together. What else can he do when a guy tells him _chlamydia_ was worth it to see him again?

Castiel groans, fingers immediately threading into the short strands of Dean’s hair. He pulls away long enough to mumble “finally” into the small space between them, before resuming the kiss, pressing against Dean with his whole body until Dean stumbles backward into the fridge. And here Dean thought he might be going over the line. Castiel seems _relieved_ though, and his kisses are hungry and enthusiastic. Dean feels like he’s being devoured, and he loves it.

Dean shudders as Castiel’s hands trail down his sides and work their way under his shirt. He almost pulls away at the feel of Castiel’s hands touching the soft skin around his waist, he’s always been sensitive about his love handles. Instead he just kisses harder, marvelling at the feel of their tongues sliding together. Everything feels sharper than it did last time, Dean doesn’t have the fog of alcohol hanging over his head.

He can feel the hard line of Castiel’s erection pressed up against him and he _wants_ , but he’s also a little skittish. He’s lacking that haze of vodka, yes, but he’s also lacking a lot of his confidence. Now that he’s in this moment he doesn’t quite know how to move forward, so he keeps kissing, because it feels good, and because there’s no rule saying more has to happen.

After a minute or two, Castiel pulls away. “You seem… incredibly tense. Is it because we have an audience?”

Dean turns his head and sure enough, Ezekiel is standing on top of the cat condo, watching with her little head tilted. “Um, no… but that’s actually kind of creepy.”

“I noticed her watching me masturbate the other day, it was disconcerting,” Castiel says absentmindedly. After a moment he seems to realize what he just said and looks embarrassed. He walks over to Ezekiel and scoops her up, carrying her and her food bowl into the bathroom and closing the door. He steps back into Dean’s space, ready to resume.

“Cas, wait,” Dean says. He pulls away, and Castiel’s face morphs into a concerned frown. He grabs a bowl from Castiel’s dishrack, filling it with water before he heads into the bathroom and puts it inside. He gives Castiel a small smirk with confidence he still doesn’t quite have. “Don’t want Zeke getting thirsty.”

Castiel smiles, looking relieved as Dean moves forward to get back to the kissing.

Dean gives him three chaste pecks on the lips before pulling back to grin. “Jacking off in front of a _kitten,_ Cas? That’s pretty dark.”

“It was quite a mood killer, I must say.”

“I once had a woman’s dog walk right over and lick my bare ass while we were going at it on the floor. Now _there’s_ your mood killer,” Dean says. It really was, too. Jamie could not stop laughing, and Dean was pretty grossed out by his wet ass cheek.

Castiel laughs, sitting on his bed. He laughs even harder and flops backwards, staring at the ceiling. “These stories are mood killers too,” he says, laughing again.

“It’s not _that_ funny.”

“Says you. I’ve been thinking about you for _weeks,_ and now you’re here, and we’re talking about unfortunate animal participation during sexual moments.”

Dean can feel himself blushing. “Weeks, huh?”

Castiel throws his arm over his face. “I was hoping you hadn’t caught that.”

Dean grins, climbing onto the bed and crawling over Castiel. He may have lost some of his nerve as far as sex goes, but he’s very comfortable being a jackass. He hovers over Castiel, pulling his arm away and pinning it to the bed. Castiel stares up at him, and _fuck_ he’s gorgeous, especially with his cheeks so flushed and his eyes so wide.

“How many weeks you been thinking about me, Cas?” Dean says, voice low.

“I uh… a couple? Maybe just one. In fact, it was no weeks. I was talking about weeks as a negative number. Negative weeks.”

“ _Sure,_ ” Dean says in a slow drawl, “that makes sense.” This is so much easier if Dean approaches it from a playful angle. He takes Castiel’s other arm, moving it until he can pin both of Castiel’s wrists by his head. “Bet that’s why you didn’t realize your cat was watching you jack off. Too busy thinking about me.”

Castiel’s eyes widen impossibly, a strangled sound escaping his parted lips. “I, uh…”

“You, uh...?”

The more nervous and flustered Castiel gets, the more relaxed Dean feels, which is sort of terrible, but Castiel is adorable like this. Dean leans in, brushing his lips against Castiel’s, nipping at his bottom lip. Castiel gasps quietly.

“Were you, Cas? Were you touching yourself, thinking about me?”

Castiel’s eyes flutter closed, and he nods minutely.

Dean could almost purr in happiness. “That’s awesome. What were you thinking about?”

Castiel bites his own lower lip, looking at Dean through his lashes. Suddenly there’s a rush of movement, and somehow Dean is on his back, further up the bed with Castiel straddling his hips. Dean’s smirk flees him immediately. He’s nervous already, and very, _very_ aroused.

“I thought about you, Dean,” Castiel says. “I think about you.”

Dean could get whiplash from the way Castiel switched gears so easily. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.” Castiel’s hands go to Dean’s fly, and Dean watches as his slender fingers undo the button and zipper. Shit, he has nice hands. Dean doesn’t object when Castiel lifts himself up to start working Dean’s jeans and boxers down. “Lift.”

Dean obeys without even thinking, lifting his hips so Castiel can pull his pants and boxers down enough to free Dean’s cock. Castiel licks his palm, holding Dean’s gaze while he gets his hand wet, and continuing to stare as he wraps his hand around Dean’s dick. Castiel isn’t even moving his hand yet, but Dean’s brain is short circuiting at the strong but gentle grip.

“I thought about you when I was touching myself,” Castiel says, and Dean almost can’t hear him over the sound of his own heavy breathing. “I held myself a lot like this, laying in my bed.” Castiel begins slowly dragging his hand up and down Dean’s shaft. “I thought about your gorgeous eyes, the way your legs look every time I watch you walk out of my shop, the noises you made the one time we were together.”

Dean moans breathlessly at that, and Castiel pauses, taking a moment to rub his palm against the wet head of Dean’s cock. His strokes are slicker when he resumes, precome easing the way. Dean doesn’t know why he wanted to make Castiel nervous. Sure he’s cute when nervous, but he’s _amazing_ like this, staring at Dean like he wants to eat him alive.

“I thought about how much I wanted to get you into bed again, Dean.”

Dean groans, hands flying to Castiel’s zipper. Castiel takes his hand off of Dean so that he can help work his pants and underwear down past his ass. He shuffles to the side so he can reach into the end table by his bed. Dean raises an eyebrow when he sees the bottle.

“Warming gel?”

Castiel shrugs. “Don’t knock it till you try it. Don’t forget that I was a virgin less than two months ago. I had to enjoy my time alone, didn’t I?”

“Hard to believe with the mouth on you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, you don’t have any allergies, do you?” Castiel asks. Dean shakes his head frantically, eyes briefly traveling to Castiel’s hard dick. Castiel gives him a wolfish grin before uncapping the bottle and pouring a small amount into his hand. He returns to gripping Dean, fisting him slowly, and at first Dean doesn’t feel anything special. Sure it feels good, Castiel has a hand on Dean’s dick after all, but it doesn’t feel different from-- oh. Dean lets out a bewildered moan as the gel starts to feel warm, doing some weird things to his nerves. He stares at Castiel, slack jawed, while the strokes resume their steady pace.

“So,” Dean says, “can I take that home with me?”

Castiel huffs a laugh, leaning forward to plant a brief kiss on Dean’s forehead. “Not a chance in hell, Kitten.”

Dean opens his mouth to bitch about the nickname, and Castiel takes the opportunity to seal their mouths together, pushing his tongue inside. Castiel draws their dicks together, giving a few test pumps with his warm, slick fist, swallowing the desperate moan that Dean makes in response. Shit, it feels amazing. Dean feels like his nerves are on fire in the best kind of way, staring at Castiel in awe when he pulls back.

“I’ve fantasized about you so many times,” Castiel says, “come with your name on my lips so many nights these past weeks.”

God, Dean’s not going to last, there’s not a chance in hell with the words coming out of Castiel’s mouth, and the feeling of their dicks rubbing together in the warm, slippery tunnel of Castiel’s hand.

“I’ve thought about how amazing it felt to have you inside me that first night, fantasized about what it would be like with the roles reversed,” Castiel says. Dean’s heart skips a beat at that. “I pictured taking you, having you bent over one of the tables in my store, moaning and sobbing while I’m hammering into you from behind.”

Seriously, where has _this_ Castiel been hiding? The fact that Dean hasn’t come yet is an actual miracle, but he can feel it building, a rush of tingling warmth spreading through him, and Castiel is _still talking._

“We’d be surrounded by all the sweet, fluffy clouds and flying cakes, all while I’m fucking your brains out.” Castiel’s tone is almost conversational, and Dean drops a hand down over his, tightening the grip around their dicks, thrusting almost helplessly into the tight warmth. Dean’s so close, it won’t take much more. “That’s just one of my fantasies, though. I have plenty. Especially now that I know we both have a clean bill of health, Dean. Someday, if we were ever so inclined, I could come right inside your ass, you seemed to like doing that to me.”

Dean’s a lost cause at that, letting out an enthusiastic volley of curses as he comes over their combined fist. His eyes are squeezed shut, but they snap open when he feels Castiel shudder almost violently. Castiel’s eyes glaze over as he follows Dean over the edge, making these adorable wounded sounds that Dean is a little in love with.

They stare at each other, frozen, stunned, panting breaths gradually slowing to normal. Part of Dean wants to move, there’s a big mess of slowly drying fluid on his hand and shirt, but he’s caught in an odd trance. Fucking Castiel while still fairly buzzed was awesome, but doing what they just did while _sober_ was a whole other thing. Damn. They continue silently staring for another minute or so, Castiel still braced over Dean, before the spell is finally broken by a series of tiny mews coming from the bathroom.

Castiel chuckles softly, rolling onto his back, then tucking himself away before sitting up. Dean does the same.

“We should, ah… wash our hands,” Castiel says.

Dean nods. “My hand _is_ a little gross.”

Castiel washes his hands first, then carries Ezekiel’s food and water back out to the main room while she follows. When Dean comes out, Castiel is holding up a white shirt with a large red lip print in the center.

Dean looks at the shirt, then at Castiel. “May I help you?”

“I thought you might want a clean shirt to change into.”

“And _that_ is your only clean shirt?” Dean asks skeptically. Castiel gives an innocent smile, and Dean sighs. “Hand it over.”

Castiel smirks while Dean changes, dodging the soiled one Dean chucks at his head. “You know, you look pretty exhausted.”

“What? Not rea--”

“So exhausted, in fact, that I think it would be a bad idea for you to drive in your condition. Might fall asleep at the wheel.”

Dean grins at Castiel, then crouches down to untie his shoes.

 


	7. Chapter 7

“Dean.”

“Dean.”

“ _Deeeean…_ ”

Dean wakes up, face smashed uncomfortably into one of Castiel’s pillows, Castiel’s fingers gently tracing patterns into his back. He makes a grunting noise, turning his head to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. He glares at Castiel.

“Dude, it’s barely after six. I don’t have to be at work until eight.”

Castiel hums absentmindedly. “I wanted to know if you wanted breakfast before work.”

“That sounds like a good idea…”

“And I thought you might want to take a shower.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut stubbornly. “Okay sure Cas, but I still don’t need to be up ye--”

“With me.”

Dean’s eyes pop open. “Well, what the fuck are we waiting for? Rise and shine, Cas!”

Dean climbs over Castiel and out of bed, rushing over to the bathroom and yanking off the clothes he slept in. He’s completely naked by the time he’s at the bathroom door. When he turns to look behind him, Castiel is still on the bed, staring at him with a startled expression.

“That was… abrupt,” Castiel says.

“Shower’s not gonna start itself, buddy!”

Dean can hear Castiel mumble “very odd” as he pulls off his shirt and stands.

Within a few minutes Dean finds himself with his back pressed up against the wall of Castiel’s tiny shower, moaning into Castiel’s mouth while they exchange slow, soapy handjobs. Castiel breaks their liplock to press kisses into Dean’s neck. He bites down, licking and sucking at skin that Dean knows his usual shirt collars won’t hide.

“Cas, wait… someone will see… I haven’t told--”

Castiel pulls away, growling. “If you have to make up a story about a woman doing this to you then so be it, but you’re getting this damn hickey.” Castiel returns to his place on Dean’s neck, nipping and sucking at the skin like he has a grudge against it, fingers still gently pumping Dean. Dean’s hand stutters on Castiel’s erection. He’d forgotten how much he loves getting bitten on his neck. Lisa wasn’t really into it, and eventually Dean forgot to miss the feel of teeth digging into his skin. He feels a little weird that Castiel essentially gave him permission to _lie_ about his existence, but not enough to put a halt to things and talk it out.

Castiel disengages his teeth for a moment, then bites down harder in the same spot, sending Dean careening over into a sudden orgasm. Dean lets go of Castiel’s dick so that he can grip Castiel’s biceps with both hands, holding on while Castiel wrings every last drop out of him.

Castiel smiles, something gentle, affectionate, and maybe a little smug. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding creepy, but your face looks amazing when you come.”

“Only when I come?” Dean asks, still panting lightly.

Castiel licks his lips. “You’re always beautiful, Dean.”

Dean is too high off of his orgasm to be embarrassed. His hands slide down Castiel’s body until they reach his ass. He grabs two generous handfuls, pulling Castiel forward into a kiss. Castiel groans into the kiss and grinds his still hard dick into Dean’s hip.

“Turn around, Cas,” Dean mutters. Castiel’s eyes widen but he turns, reaching to angle the shower head away from his face. Dean’s eyes trail down and he makes a happy little hum; Castiel has such a fantastic ass. He can just barely remember what it felt like, pushing himself inside. He could do it now, finger Castiel until he was open and Dean was hard again. He could go in bare, fuck Castiel into the wall. They’re both clean now for sure, it would be so easy.

He doesn’t though. Oddly enough he feels like he’s not ready. He snakes one arm around Castiel’s waist, pulling him closer until they’re pressed chest to back, then moves his right hand to grab Castiel’s dick. Within a minute he’s built up an almost punishing rhythm, and Castiel is jerking his hips forward while he mutters profanities. Two minutes after that, and Castiel is clutching at one of the knobs in the shower with his left hand, and gripping the shower curtain with his right. His vocabulary has been reduced to nothing but Dean’s name and the occasional swear word. If it were fifteen minutes later, or if Dean were a bit younger, the noises alone would have him hard again already.

Dean wonders if Castiel likes being bit as much as he seemed to like to be the one doing the biting. He leans forward, biting down hard on that soft, delicious spot between neck and shoulder, keeping his relentless pace on Castiel’s dick. Castiel shouts, ripping half of the shower curtain off the plastic rings as he comes. God, Dean wishes he had a recording of this to watch over and over.

Castiel sighs happily as Dean works the last of his orgasm out of him, fingers slowly releasing their death grip on the torn shower curtain.

Dean looks over at the curtain, amused. “A little duct tape will patch that right up.”

Castiel grunts, looking at the destruction. “I don’t think I’ve ever ruined anything by having an orgasm before.”

“Well, I’m pleased to be part of this milestone in your life.”

“You’re grabbing up a lot of my firsts.”

“First STD, first orgasm with collateral damage, first orgasm with another person…”

“Not quite,” Castiel says.

“Eh? Oh right, virgin but not a _virgin_ or whatever,” Dean says. “So, not first orgasm with another person.”

“ _Best_ orgasm with another person.”

Dean pauses in drying himself off. “Really, now.”

“Before you puff out your chest, try to remember I don’t have a whole lot to compare our encounter to. A few handjobs here and there with a few partners. Before things inevitably ended.”

Dean frowns, but resumes toweling himself off. “What do you mean?”

“Let me get breakfast started before I start whining about my exes.”

“Sure thing,” Dean says, but he has a feeling Castiel won’t be coming back to the subject any time soon.

Dean takes the shower curtain down while Castiel brushes his teeth. When Castiel offers Dean his toothbrush, Dean stares at him in distaste. “Are you serious?”

“It’s the only one I have.”

“Dude, that’s so gross.”

“You’re very squeamish for a man that had unprotected sex with a stranger.”

Dean glares, yanking the toothbrush out of Castiel’s hand. “You suck.”

Castiel nods solemnly while Dean douses the toothbrush in antiseptic mouthwash and rinses it under hot water for a good sixty seconds. “Yes, that will make it nice and safe. It’s basically brand new now.”

“This is just sickening,” Dean groans.

“You’ve had your _tongue_ in my mouth.”

Dean glares even harder, squeezing on some toothpaste and then brushing his teeth vigorously.

“Do you want to use my tongue scraper?” Castiel asks.

Dean barks out a “NO,” causing toothpaste foam to go flying onto the mirror.

Castiel cocks an eyebrow while Dean swipes at the mess with his towel. “Yeah, _I’m_ disgusting.”

Dean resumes brushing his teeth, only to spit onto the mirror again when Castiel gives him a firm, open palm slap on his ass before leaving. He yells some obscenities in reply, but as soon as Castiel is out of sight Dean is smiling.

He wants to get dressed, but his soiled shirt is nowhere to be found, and he doesn’t feel comfortable rifling through Castiel’s things. After he’s finished brushing his teeth, peeing, and washing his hands, Dean gets redressed in his jeans and the ridiculous shirt from last night. Castiel is busy pulling ingredients out of the fridge, gently humming to himself. It reminds Dean of his mom a little, which, okay maybe that’s a bit creepy, but still comforting.

Tying the laces on Dean’s shoes proves to be a small challenge when Ezekiel decides she’s very interested in the strings. “Well aren’t you the cutest little distraction? You sure are!”

Dean startles at the sound of silverware being dropped. He looks over to see Castiel, staring at him with a hand over his mouth. He looks suspiciously like someone that’s trying not to laugh.

“What?” Dean demands.

Castiel moves his hand away from his mouth slowly. “Nothing, I simply never expected to hear you baby talking to a kitten, that’s all.”

Dean can feel the blush spreading over his entire body. He quickly finishes tying his shoes then stands, padding over to Castiel. He looms in what he hopes is a menacing way.

“Breathe a word of this to anyone and they’ll never find your body, Novak.”

Castiel smirks, crouching down to pick up the dropped silverware. He keeps on smirking as he sets the items in the sink and grabs clean ones out of a drawer.

“I mean it!” Dean says. “I’ll make you into cat food for Zeke, and I’ll raise her to attack pastry chefs on sight!”

Castiel keeps on smiling, turning to stir something on the stove. Dean sighs and kicks one of the chairs with a minimal amount of force.

“I hate you,” Dean mutters.

“Whatever you say, Kitten.”

“Bite me, _Casper_.”

Castiel sets down his stirring spoon, then grabs Dean and manhandles him until he’s pressed up against the fridge. Before Dean can even get a word out Castiel is nosing at Dean’s neck and biting down on the incredibly sore hickey there. Dean lets out a sharp moan and a whimper.

“That’s not my name,” Castiel says.

“If you get to call me Kitten, I get to call you Casper.”

“Is that so?”

“It sure is, Casper.”

“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Castiel kisses Dean, and Dean opens up immediately for Castiel’s eager tongue. Kissing Castiel is like making out with a sexy tornado, and by the time he pulls away to smile at Dean, Dean barely knows which way is up. He doesn’t even realize he’s been grinding against Castiel until he feels Castiel’s hands still his hips.

“One second,” Castiel mutters. He pulls away long enough to switch off the burners on the stove, then he’s crushing Dean back against the fridge, quickly opening Dean’s jeans and working a hand inside to pull him out. Watching Castiel stare at his cock and actually _lick his lips_ turns Dean on even more, but when Castiel starts to sink to his knees, Dean panics.

“W-wait,” Dean says.

Castiel looks at Dean with nothing but concern. “Are you okay?”

Dean’s practically tripping over his words. “This is going to sound… I’m not _ready_ for… uh… fluids. Inside… uh… you know? I mean I like doing stuff, but after what happened…”

“Shh,” Castiel says, and Dean is thankful for the interruption. “It’s okay, I understand.”

“You do?”

“It’s okay to not want to do certain activities.”

“I’m just sort of....”

“You’re not ready.”

“It sounds so stupid when you say it like that.”

Castiel frowns. “It’s not stupid, Dean.”

“I’ve had a _lot_ of sex in the past, I shouldn’t--”

“No, there’s no ‘shouldn’t’ here. You had a bad experience that’s tied to certain sexual acts. If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready. There’s nothing wrong with that. I understand not being ready, Dean. It doesn’t make me like you any less.”

“Awww, you _like_ me?”

“I would think that’s obvious.”

Dean grins. “Thanks, Cas. Sorry I kind of ruined the mood, here.”

“Ruined?” Castiel wraps his hand around Dean’s dick, flicking his tongue against the wonderfully abused spot on Dean’s neck. It takes him less than five minutes to prove the mood isn’t ruined at all.

 

***

 

By the time Dean gets to work, he’s over an hour late. Bobby’s eyes widen at the sight of Dean’s wrecked hair, the lime green “Bakers Do It Sweeter” t-shirt Dean changed into after coming all over his stomach _again_ , and the hickey on his neck that can probably be seen from space, eyebrows so high they’re practically under his trucker’s cap.

“Well what have you got to say for yourself, boy?” Bobby barks.

Dean holds up a bag full of foil-wrapped breakfast burritos, made by Castiel while Dean took _another_ shower. “I brought an olive branch?”

Bobby grunts, grabbing two burritos and grumping his way into his office.

“Can’t say I’ve seen you sportin’ a hickey lately, you got yourself a new girlfriend?” Dean almost jumps, because where the fuck did Benny come from?

“Something like that,” Dean says, because Castiel isn’t a woman, and Dean’s not sure if they’re a _thing_ or not. He should probably find that out at some point.

SENT - 05/20/14 - 10:14am - I think your burritos saved me from getting kneecapped by my boss.

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 11:01am - I was more than half an hour late getting the shop open. I blame you.

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 11:02am - My morning workers couldn't decide whether to open the shop on their own or wait for me.

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 11:03am - The grumpy old man who orders two bran muffins every morning then sits in my shop for an hour and a half

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 11:06am - yelled at me for ruining his morning and informed me he’d be finding a more RELIABLE bakery from now on.

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 11:14am - You’ve cost me $3.50 a day, Dean.

SENT - 05/20/14 - 11:46am - Hey, you invited me to spend the night!

SENT - 05/20/14 - 11:48am - and INSISTED I have a bunch of orgasms

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 12:13pm - You must have me confused with someone else?

SENT - 05/20/14 - 12:29pm - Uh huh. You know how much shit I’ve gotten today for the hickey and this hideous shirt?

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 1:00pm - Nobody said you couldn’t go home and change into a nice, plain turtleneck.

SENT - 05/20/14 - 1:02pm - I was LATE!

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 1:06pm - OR, you like wearing the ugly novelty shirt because it’s mine.

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 1:08pm - And you love the hickey and want people to know you had someone all over you last night.

Dean stares at the texts on his phone, face heating up. He wonders if Castiel is making a teasing guess, or if he just has Dean figured out.

“What are you blushing over, Kitten?” Benny asks, once again appearing out of nowhere as far as Dean can tell.

Dean yelps, almost dropping his phone. “Damn it Benny, none of your damn business!”

Benny laughs his way into the bathroom.

SENT - 05/20/14 - 1:14pm - Maybe. Don’t go spreading that around, I’ll kick your ass.

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 1:18pm - I’m shaking in my apron.

SENT - 05/20/14 - 1:20pm - You should be. I know where you sleep, Novak.

RECEIVED - 05/20/14 - 1:30pm - I hope you will make good use of that knowledge. ;)

Dean bites his lip, grinning. Then Bobby walks in and threatens to take Dean’s phone away like Dean’s in middle school or some shit, so he sighs and focuses on his work.

He doesn’t act on what he’s pretty sure was an invitation in that last text, but he does sleep in Castiel’s shirt for the rest of the week.


	8. Chapter 8

RECEIVED - 05/22/14 - 3:15pm - Come to the shop later for eclairs. :)

SENT - 05/22/14/ - 3:20pm - Oh FUCK YEAH

 

***

 

SENT - 06/01/14 - 9:13pm - I still have your ugly green shirt.

RECEIVED - 06/01/14 - 9:22pm - I was wondering what I’d done with that.

RECEIVED - 06/01/14 - 9:23pm - Are you going to give it back?

SENT - 06/01/14 - 9:31pm - No.

SENT - 06/01/14 - 9:31pm - :)

 

***

 

SENT - 06/07/14 - 6:09pm - I tripped while moving to put your pie in the oven.

SENT - 06/07/14 - 6:13pm - It fell face down on the floor. The dirty floor that no one has felt like mopping in about a month.

SENT - 06/07/14 - 6:14pm - I almost cried, man.

 

***

 

RECEIVED - 06/12/14 - 5:11pm - I know you’re still cozy in the bisexual closet, but would you maybe like to go on a date?

RECEIVED - 06/12/14 - 5:13pm - We can go out for a burger, then go see a movie.

RECEIVED - 06/12/14 - 5:18pm - Maybe hold hands when the lights are down like two sexual deviants.

RECEIVED - 06/12/14 - 5:19pm - Then go back to my place and rut like bunnies on my bed.

SENT - 06/12/14 - 6:23pm - YES WHEN

SENT - 06/12/14 - 6:50pm - WHEN

SENT - 06/12/14 - 7:31pm - CAS WHEN

SENT - 06/12/14 - 7:52pm - CAS I WANT TO RUT LIKE BUNNIES

SENT - 06/12/14 - 8:02pm - It’s been weeks.

SENT - 06/12/14 - 8:05pm - I want more kisses. It’s wrong that there haven’t been more kisses.

SENT - 06/12/14 - 8:09pm - CAS

SENT - 06/12/14 - 8:10pm - CAAAAAASSSSSS

RECEIVED - 06/12/14 - 9:03pm - That was a lot of texts.

RECEIVED - 06/12/14 - 9:05pm - I want more kissing too, of course.

RECEIVED - 06/12/14 - 9:07pm - After you left my home last month I started to worry that I was moving too fast.

RECEIVED - 06/12/14 - 9:10pm - So I was trying to give you space, act like we usually did.

SENT - 06/12/14 - 9:12pm - But you just asked me out.

RECEIVED - 06/12/14 - 9:15pm - I got tired of giving you space.

SENT - 06/12/14 - 9:16pm - good

SENT - 06/12/14 - 9:20pm - I know I said I wasn’t ready, but I meant you know SEX-sex.

SENT - 06/12/14 - 9:24pm - I don’t know dude, I’ve got a big mess of baggage that I won’t get into.

Dean’s startled when his phone rings, but he answers it right away. “Hello?”

“Tell me about your baggage.”

“Aw, come on, Cas.”

“I care about you. I want to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Dean groans. “This would be easier if we were still texting.”

“I believe in you,” Castiel says dryly.

“Don’t be a dick.”

“Stop stalling.”

“Sorry, this isn’t my strong suit, man. It’s not like I think you’re going to laugh at me, it’s this mental block I guess.”

“I definitely will not laugh at you,” Castiel says. “Unless something is really funny.”

Alright. Dean can do this. “Okay, so. The closet thing. When I was in high school, I messed around with a few guys. Nothing long term, and nothing that went very far sexually, just fun. I wasn’t exactly ashamed of myself or anything, but we always kept it secret. There were a couple of gay kids at the school, and they got picked on sometimes, it didn’t seem worth the hassle. The last guy was this dude named Victor. Really cool guy, but stuffed so far in the closet I don’t even understand how we started hooking up. We usually messed around in some hidden part of the school, or at my house on Sam’s soccer days, while my parents were at work. Honestly, I started to like Vic. We bonded over the usual guy shit, and he was a _fantastic_ kisser. We even got to the point where we were talking about all the ‘what ifs’ of coming out. Maybe going to college together somewhere that no one would give two shits about an interracial same sex couple.”

Dean pauses, sighing at the decade-old memories rushing in. It’s mostly silent on Castiel’s end, but Dean can hear Ezekiel playing with one of the toys on her cat condo in the background.

“I don't really know where he gets it, but my dad can be pretty homophobic and judgmental,” Dean says. “In my sophomore year there was this big to-do over a lesbian couple at school wanting to go to senior prom like all the other kids in love. There were petitions about it and shit. My mom, she signed one saying they should get to attend as a couple. My mom loves everyone, she’d never turn her nose up on a couple just because they were gay. My dad, though. He signed the petition saying the girls could only attend if there was no touching, or some shit. It was gross. My parents were _pissed_ at each other for weeks. Nothing ever got settled as far as I know, but eventually they stopped talking about it. Charlie and Gilda did get to go to the prom as a couple, but they had it hard at school, and that petition showed me that my old man wouldn’t be okay with me dating a guy. Back then, I was pretty obsessed with making him proud. Uh… not enough to stop fooling around with guys, obviously.”

Castiel snorts, but he doesn’t say anything, so Dean continues.

“Anyway, the prom thing was two years before me and Vic, but naturally it was still on my mind sometimes. I kept thinking if Charlie and Gilda could do it, couldn’t I? I was considering it Cas, I was thinking about telling people that hey, I like girls _and_ guys. But that all got messed up on one of Sammy’s soccer days. Vic was over, and we’d more or less decided to go all the way. The first time either of us would be having actual _sex_ with another guy. We even ducked out of school early so we’d have extra time. So at some point Vic had me bent over the foot of my bed, and he was like two fingers deep…”

Dean hears an odd little gasp and stops, then grins.

“Are you over there getting a boner from my traumatic memory, Cas?"

He can hear Castiel panicking. “I… no, I’m…”

“ _Really_ , Cas.”

Castiel’s mortification is practically pulsing out of the phone. “I apologize, I wasn’t--”

“I wouldn’t think you’d like the idea of me with someone else, my my,” Dean says, clicking his tongue.

Castiel makes an anguished groan.

“Teenage me was fuckin’ hot, too. I had shaggy boyband hair, and looked like a total twink until I hit my twenties. Definitely the sort of boy that looked good all spread out and--”

“ _Dean!_ ” Castiel barks. “This was _not_ an invitation for you to change the subject. Finish your story.”

Dean chuckles. Teasing Castiel makes him feel better, helps him get some distance from the memories he’s wading in.

He sighs and continues. “Okay, well like I said I was in the beginnings of some version of barely legal gay porn, and that’s when my dad came in.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Yeah. Something happened at work… I think it was a burst water pipe, and he had to leave for the day, and he was wondering why my car was in the driveway when I should still be at school. I still can’t believe I didn’t hear his truck pulling up, or the front door closing… _something_. Anyway, my dad, he was… fuck, I’ve never seen him so mad. Not even the year before when I backed into his truck with my old car and caused over two thousand dollars worth of damage. I really thought he was going to beat the shit out of us, the way he was tensed up I know it was on his mind. He was shouting the entire time we were scrambling to get our clothes back on. Then he got on the phone and called Vic’s dad, and told him what he’d found us doing. They were poker buddies or something. Man, Vic’s dad took it even worse than mine did. He told Vic he could either go live with his aunt in Boston, or he could be kicked out on his ass. Vic didn’t have a job, didn’t have money saved… so he had to go.”

“That’s awful, Dean,” Castiel says sadly.

“My dad told me if I expected to stay in his house, I should get over whatever ‘phase’ I was going through, and never bring it up again. So I never told anyone, and I never dated another man. Even after I moved out on my own, and even though I can barely stand to be in a room with the man these days, I kept to his orders.”

Dean doesn’t know when he started crying, but he is. “Cas,” he says, voice cracking, “can I come over?”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairly brief mention of past attempted non-con.

When Castiel answers the knock on his door, he’s wearing the white shirt with the big lip print on the front, which apparently came with matching pants, because Castiel’s pajama bottoms are white, patterned with little red lip prints. Even though Dean burst into tears _twice_ on the drive over, he can’t help but grin, eyeing Castiel up and down in the most blatant way he can manage. Castiel rolls his eyes and pulls Dean inside, and into a hug.

Dean lets out a shaky breath, melting into Castiel’s embrace. It feels like coming home.

Castiel leads Dean over to sit down on his bed, and Dean complies easily. He feels raw, and vulnerable, and a hundred other things he goes out of his way to avoid feeling. He can’t remember the last time he cried, but it was probably the day Lisa dumped him. At least that had just been a few tears squeezed out in the privacy of Sam’s guest room. It’s definitely been a hefty chunk of years since Dean cried in front of another person. Castiel rummages through his chest of drawers, holding out something for Dean to change into.

Dean eyes the clothing items. “Oh, come _on,_ I’m not wearing those.”

“It will cheer you up. Trust me.”

Dean sighs, reaching down to untie his shoes. The clothing in question is another embarrassing t-shirt and pajama bottom combo. The t-shirt is a solid light blue, but the pants have cute cartoon rainbows, clouds, and smiling suns all over them. Dean glares as he pulls them on. The shirt is a little small on him, and he doesn’t like the way his midsection seems to bulge in it.

“Where the fuck do you even get shit like this in men’s sizes?” Dean grumbles. Castiel smiles serenely, then hands Dean a glass of milk and a chocolate chip cookie once he’s sitting back on the bed. “This is weird. You’re like… _mothering_ me.”

Castiel looks affronted at that. “I am _not._ I’m simply showing you what sometimes helps me feel a little better.”

“Having milk and cookies in your jammies?”

“Not always milk and cookies. Sometimes it’s macaroni and cheese casserole, or a bacon cheeseburger, or fruit salad. And they’re not just pajamas. They’re clean, _fun_ pajamas.”

“So you do this and you’re all better?”

“They’re not _magic_ pajamas, Dean. It helps, that’s all.”

“I dunno, Cas. Seems kind of--”

“Don’t you watch Cupcake Wars in your sweatpants while eating junk food every week?”

“Pie is very grown up, Cas. So are sweatpants. They’re grown up, and manly, and…” Dean sighs and takes a bite of his cookie.

“Okay, now relax. I’m going to do this pile of dishes I’ve been putting off. Your task is to enjoy that cookie and feel comfortable. Everything else can wait. Actually…” Castiel shuffles over to the kitchenette and grabs another cookie, passing it to Dean with a gentle smile, then heads back over to the sink to start his dishes.

Dean sits on the bed, legs crossed, eating his cookie. It’s good, but that’s no surprise. Castiel probably made it, and everything Castiel makes is basically ambrosia to Dean. It’s nice to have a glass of milk, too. Sam and Jess insist on soy milk, and Dean tends to forget that he can always go and buy his own regular milk if he wants it. The pajamas are soft and cozy, unlike Dean’s selection of ratty, barely washed sweatpants. They smell nice, they smell like Castiel whenever he doesn’t smell like delicious baked goods. Hints of cherry blossom and citrus that Dean wants to tease him about but never does.

This is… comfortable. He likes the idea that his only job at this moment is to feel good. So he does. He doesn’t think about his father, or how much he missed Victor for months after he left, or how his eyes are still kind of sticky with tears from the drive over, or about how Castiel will probably encourage him to talk more soon. He just enjoys his two cookies and listens to the sound of Castiel doing his dishes. Castiel is humming La Vie En Rose, which sounds a bit… odd with his voice, but Dean can’t help but smile. When Castiel finishes his dishes, he plucks away Dean’s empty plate and glass, setting them down in the sink.

“Already getting started on the next pile of dirty dishes, I guess,” Dean says.

“Looks that way. So. How do you feel?”

“You were right, it helped. Still felt a little childish, though.”

“Don’t worry. Enjoying a few pleasures and comforts associated with childhood does not make you any less big and manly.”

Dean gives him a haughty grin. “Well, _good._ ”

Castiel snorts and crawls into bed next to Dean, looking uncomfortable.

“Well come on,” Dean says, “Say what you gotta say. I’m alright.”

“I’m just… sorry if I poked at an old wound that was better left alone.”

“Hey, no. It’s not your fault. It’s good that someone knows, I never even told Sammy. Not even after I found out a few weeks ago that one of his former college friends was actually his former college _boyfriend._ It’s hard to get that shit out. My old man always saw that sort of thing as a vulnerability, and saw vulnerability as weakness, and I kind of inherited that from him, even though I know he’s full of shit. Plus you deserve to know my stupid reasons for still being in the stupid closet.”

“They’re not stupid.”

“Well, they’re not smart.”

Ezekiel claws her way onto the bed, nosing at Dean’s socked feet. Once again, Dean muses over the idea of getting a cat. They can be loving and playful, but they can look after themselves too. Dean wouldn’t have to take it for walks like he would with a dog, and it might be nice to have something waiting for him at home whenever he’s done living in Sam’s guest room. He voices these thoughts to Castiel, who scoops up Ezekiel and snuggles close to her.

“I am enjoying cat ownership very much,” Castiel says, setting Ezekiel down on Dean’s chest, “but don’t forget they do live for over a decade, sometimes two. That’s quite a commitment.”

“Oh well, it’s something I’ll think about later. Probably shouldn’t get a pet when I don’t even have my own place anyway. I’ll tell you one thing though. If I ever do get a cat, it’s getting a better name than Ezekiel.”

Castiel glares. “I’m not defending my choice in names again.”

Dean grins and pets Ezekiel. After a moment he pauses, smile fading. “About the sex thing…”

“Dean, you don’t have to--”

“I know, man. I know. We both have a clean bill of health, hell I even saw your test results last time I was here. We could be having filthy unprotected sex all the time. But then I think about what happened, and I--”

“I _am_ capable of purchasing condoms, you realize. Sex without a condom is not something I take lightly,” Castiel says. Dean raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s not something I take lightly _now._ ”

“I know, and that’s what I told myself, but I also started thinking about how things can still go wrong when you use condoms, and I got freaked out all over again. It took me a while to figure out that it’s not only the idea of infecting you, or getting infected with something that was holding me back. It’s this idea that I have to trust you’re not sleeping around, and that never would have been a problem for me before. I didn’t even realize how much trust I was putting in Lisa until she told me what she’d done. She could have given me something life threatening, all because she couldn’t do me the kindness of letting me know it was over _before_ she cheated on me. God, I feel like such an idiot, Cas. She was on birth control, and we were _living together._ Fucking without a condom didn’t seem like it would be a problem.”

Dean realizes his voice is raised a bit high when Ezekiel darts away to hide.

“I’ve been a shitty boyfriend in the past, but I never lied, never cheated, I just…” Dean’s eyes are filling with tears for the fourth time in one night. Today fucking sucks. “I really cared about her. Maybe not marriage-and-babies-love, but she was important to me. What we had was important to me. It’s one thing if she didn’t want me anymore, but why couldn’t she care enough to end things before she moved on to the next guy?” Dean’s voice has deflated to a broken whisper, tears sliding down his cheeks. “Fuck, I fucking hate crying.”

Castiel wraps his arms around Dean, hugging him bone-crushingly tight for a moment before releasing him. He grabs Dean’s closest hand and laces their fingers together before leaning against the headboard on the bed.

“Do you remember that morning, after our shower together, the subject of my exes came up?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah, you said you wanted to start breakfast before getting into it, and then you never brought it up again. I thought maybe it was a sore spot.”

“Yes, well it _is_ a sore spot. But you have shared a large and vulnerable part of yourself with me, and I would like to do the same.”

Dean briefly considers telling Castiel he doesn’t need to do that, but he feels so _exposed_ right now. Maybe if Castiel is exposed too he’ll feel a little less raw. He lays his head on Castiel’s shoulder and squeezes his hand.

“In the time since I came out,” Castiel says, “I’ve had four boyfriends. Three of them cheated on me, and I assure you we were in exclusive relationships each time. There was no misunderstanding, no ‘oh I didn’t know we weren’t seeing other people’, it was cheating.” Dean is already horrified. Who the fuck would cheat on Cas?! “It always came back to all my hangups about sex. Inias told me he was okay with waiting, and I had no reason to doubt his words. Then one day I found him making out with his ex-girlfriend in his backyard when I stopped by to invite him to a movie.” Castiel smiles. “Hester kneed him in the groin, actually. Inias didn’t tell her about me either. Then there was Bartholomew. I wasn’t ready for sex still, but we did… other things in the mean time.”

Castiel glares, but nods when Dean mimics giving a blow job.

“It felt good, of course. But it made me feel pathetic, too. I was well aware that I was compromising solely because I was trying to keep him, not because I felt ready. He cheated anyway, though. Gabriel got arrested after a prank gone wrong the same night Bartholomew happened to get arrested for indecent exposure behind a Bank of America. As I heard it, the bank teller he’d been sleeping with on the side was ‘servicing’ him behind the bank, and a police officer happened to pass through the alley.” Castiel furrows his brow, frowning deeply. “It bothers me that I would have continued being in the dark were it not for Gabriel’s poor planning and Bartholomew’s apparently terrible luck. Anyway after him there was Balthazar. He’s the only one that didn’t cheat on me, and also the only one I’m still on speaking terms with.”

The name sounds familiar to Dean, but he can’t place it.

Castiel continues. “After about a month of dating he told me in no uncertain terms that he couldn’t deal with the sex thing like he’d thought. I think he said something about being too much of a horny bastard. He told me we’d be better off as friends, that we’d be silly to throw it all away over a breakup, and he meant it.”

Dean remembers where he knows the name from. “Isn’t that the guy that had the bartender call you to pick him up and then left with some guy before you even showed?”

Castiel smiles. “I believe they’re in Europe now. Balthazar will return when the relationship has run its course, I’m sure.” At Dean’s stare he adds, “I didn’t say he was an _exemplary_ friend.”

Dean shifts to nuzzle at Castiel’s neck, breathing in deep. The scent of laundry soap and the coconut body wash Castiel favors is very comforting. “Well, I’m glad he’s kind of a flake.”

Castiel turns and kisses the top of Dean’s head. “Yes, I’ll have to make him a cake when he returns. So, after Balthazar, there was Crowley. Crowley was… frustrating, and rude, and childish, and a soulless bastard at times, and yet I was inexplicably enamored with him. We fought like angry cats half the time, and the only thing that stopped us from channeling all that animosity into sex was that years-old feeling that I was waiting for something, that I wasn’t ready. There were plenty of angry hand jobs and the like, though.”

Castiel is glaring at nothing while he talks, body tense. “There was one night, after a particularly vigorous and messy... _dry humping_ session on his couch, that he brought up a point I hadn’t been considering. We were basically doing everything but getting naked and having penetrative sex.”

Dean wrinkles his nose. Who _calls it that_?

“He said that my virginity was becoming more and more of a technicality, and flat out asked if I was just afraid of having actual intercourse. I hadn’t thought I was, but he made a good point. I started to wonder if it was maybe leftover religious stigma, or if I’d built it up in my head too much to the point where it had become too intimidating to even consider. I decided I had created a psychological block and I just needed to get past it. I’d already had very intimate interactions with Bartholomew and Crowley, how different could it really be? So I decided to go for it.”

Castiel seems even _more_ tense, and Dean is almost nervous.

“The next time we saw each other was a few days later. I told him he’d gotten me thinking, and that I wanted to give it a try. We were on his bed, kissing and undressing, he was actually being almost tender with me. I was starting to think I could finally do it… and that’s when I noticed the two tied off used condoms in the little wastebasket next to his bed. Right next to the napkin covered in smeared make-up.”

Dean winces.

“Crowley knew my history, knew how hard it was for me to trust romantic partners, knew how much I abhorred infidelity. I pulled away, started calmly pulling my clothes back on, and when he asked what I was doing, I gestured to the trash. Crowley flipped out. He was yelling at me that it was _my_ fault, that it was impossible for a man to hold out that long, and what did I expect? I asked him why in the hell he didn’t just break up with me, then. He stopped yelling then, and said it was because he cared about me, which was the dumbest thing he could have possibly said. I told him I was leaving, that we were done. That’s when he grabbed me, and shoved me onto his bed, and started pulling off his belt.”

Dean can actually feel the color leaving his face at Castiel’s words. Crowley is a dead fucker when Dean finds out his last name. Or first name. He’s not sure which “Crowley” is.

Castiel stares at the ceiling, sounding detached. “I know I have a particular way about me. I come off as overly docile and submissive sometimes. It was something that often drew the attention of bullies when I was younger. Crowley was like them, thinking I was an easy target. I broke his nose and fractured his right arm.”

Dean blinks, stunned. _Damn._

“I guess I’m lucky he didn’t press charges. This was over a year ago. The last time I saw Crowley was a few weeks ago, while I was walking to the bank. He actually turned and ran the other way when he saw me.” Castiel is smiling lightly. It’s weirdly hot.

Castiel shrugs suddenly, sitting up and turning to face Dean. “I don’t know the future. I can’t say if we start something it’ll work out, and end with us falling in love and living happily ever after… although I look at you and I do really like that idea.”

Dean is not blushing, Dean is _not_ blushing.

“I want you to know that I will never do what Lisa did to you. I know what it feels like to find out your trust was violated, and I would never do that to someone else. So whether we stay as friends, or we become lovers that crash and burn horribly, or we become something that lasts… I won’t violate your trust, because I am _intimately_ aware of how much it hurts. I will endeavor to be honest to you in whatever relationship we have, because that is what you deserve.” Castiel bites his lip, looking back at the ceiling. “I got a bit carried away.”

“Felt like I was getting a marriage proposal,” Dean says.

“Well I don’t even have a _ring_ for that.”

“I bet you’d propose by putting a ring in a cake.”

“Not for you, I’d probably put the ring on a pie, maybe embedded in the center of the top crust so you don’t accidentally eat it...” Castiel trails off when he notices Dean is staring at him. He makes a pained sound, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Not that I think about that. I mean you’re not even… I… ugh, please tell me you’re in favor of making out and pretending I stopped talking four minutes ago.”

Dean takes pity on Castiel, straddling his lap and leaning in for a kiss. Castiel lets out a relieved sigh, opening up to Dean’s questing tongue.

They kiss for a few moments before Dean pulls back, smiling. “I think apple would be good.”

“Hmm?”

“For your proposal pie. I mean I know cherry is _your_ favorite, but apple is definitely the way to go when you propose to me.”

Castiel glares and pushes Dean off of him. Dean just laughs, even when Castiel starts whacking him with pillows.

 

***

 

The clock reads 4:19am when Dean jolts out of sleep. He reaches over to Castiel’s sleeping form, shaking his shoulder until he wakes up startled and mumbling in confusion. The kitchenette light is still on, so Dean can easily make out the concerned look on Castiel’s face.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Castiel asks gently.

“No, nothing like that. I just… I really like you, Cas.”

Castiel manages to look even _more_ concerned at Dean’s admission. “I… like you too, Dean.”

“Okay, that’s good. That’s great.”

Castiel sits up, leaning over Dean. He pets one hand gently against Dean’s cheek. “Are you alright?”

Dean smiles. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Dean’s not fine. He’s kind of flipping out, heart pounding its way out of his chest. He grabs the hand stroking his cheek and pulls it over so he can lay kisses on the knuckles. Castiel’s eyebrows rise.

“I want us to be an _us,_ Cas,” Dean says.

“Oh... _Oh!_ An _us._ ”

“I want us to go on a date, maybe make out in public. I want you to meet Sam.”

“That sounds… ambitious.”

“Probably. But is that… do you want--”

“I want,” Castiel says, crawling onto Dean and crouching over him on all fours. There’s an abrupt shift in the energy of the room, not that Dean minds. “I want…” Castiel spreads his legs apart until his hips are hovering right above Dean’s and Dean can already feel himself growing hard. Castiel pauses in his descent. “So which of those things do you want to do first? Go on a date, make out in public, or introduce me to your brother?”

“Probably Sam, so he doesn’t accidentally hear about it somewhere and get his big dumb feelings hurt.”

Castiel hums in acknowledgement, leaning forward to kiss Dean. “Sounds like a plan.” Castiel rolls his hips down against Dean’s and Dean groans at the feeling of their dicks rubbing together through the thin layers of cloth. There’s something kind of wrong about doing this while wearing Castiel’s childish pajamas, but Dean is into it anyway. He palms Castiel’s ass with both hands, then holds on tight so he can rut up against his favorite pastry chef.

Dean closes his eyes at the sound of Castiel’s breathy gasps. “God, I love the sounds you make, Cas. One of my favorite things to think about when I’m laying in my bed with my dick in my hand.”

Castiel moans, mouth right next to Dean’s ear. The sound sends a shudder through Dean’s body and he squeezes Castiel’s ass harder.

“I think about this ass, too. How good it felt getting inside. The memory is kind of faint though, Cas. I’ll need a refresher sometime soon.”

Castiel is moving faster against him, trembling slightly. “ _Dean_.”

“Do you want that, Cas? Want me inside?”

“Please, please, please,” Castiel mutters. Dean feels a rush of adrenaline making its way through him, nerves sparking with excitement.

He turns his head to pant more words in Castiel’s ear. “Or maybe you’d be in the mood for something else, Cas? Maybe you wanna be the first guy to fuck me instead. Pretty sure I remember you talking about wanting to do that, right? You wanna take my virginity, Cas? Find out what kind of noises I make?”

Castiel growls out a garbled curse and comes, reaching down to rub Dean right over the edge with him. Dean’s own orgasm is quiet but intense, and he closes his eyes to let the waves wash over him, savoring each pulse.

A few minutes pass, and Dean knows they should get up and change, or at least peel out of their messy clothes. Instead he lays there with Castiel on top of him, drifting off to sleep.

 


	10. Chapter 10

RECEIVED - 6/13/14 - 8:29pm - It took two washes to get the semen out.

RECEIVED - 6/13/14 - 8:30pm - I might need to switch to a more aggressive detergent.

SENT - 6/13/14 - 9:43pm - Nah just buy a tub of OxiClean and add some to your “problem” loads. That stuff is great.

RECEIVED - 6/13/14 - 9:49pm - I seem to recall an old commercial with a man yelling that I needed to try OxiClean.

SENT - 6/13/14 - 9:50pm - BILLY MAYS HERE

RECEIVED - 6/13/14 - 9:53pm - Yes, that’s the one.

RECEIVED - 6/13/14 - 9:54pm - I’ll have to pick some up tomorrow.

SENT - 6/13/14 - 9:59pm - You won’t regret it. I use it with my usual laundry soap.

SENT - 6/13/14 - 10:00pm - I get so many pizza stains out that way.

SENT - 6/13/14 - 10:00pm - and pie stains

SENT - 6/13/14 - 10:01pm - and barbecue sauce stains

SENT - 6/13/14 - 10:03pm - I’m kind of a messy eater when no one is around.

A few minutes later Dean gets a text with a link to a listing on Amazon.com for adult bibs sold in bulk. He laughs so hard he has to get up and go pee.

 

***

 

Sam is at the dining room correcting a pile of math tests when Dean comes home from work. He smiles when Dean joins him at the table, not noticing how nervous Dean is. “Hey! Jess is at a cosmetics party… or wait, maybe it was tupperware? Do people still do that? Anyway, I’m having a huge pizza craving. I thought we could argue over pizza toppings for half an hour before ultimately deciding to buy two separate pizzas.”

Dean grins. Their pizza “fights” are a time-honored tradition. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh. In that case, let’s fast track the argument. Tomato, spinach, onion, mushroom, bell pepper, olive, and chicken.”

“Tut, tut!” Dean says, lapsing into a poor British accent. All part of the game. “I call for pepperoni, sausage, canadian bacon, and extra cheese!”

“Nay, sir!”

“Two pizzas?”

“Two pizzas! Though I will expect to enjoy a slice of your inferior choice.”

“And yours as well, good sir!”

Sam picks up his phone, dialing the pizza place.

“Why do we always talk like that?” Dean asks. Sam shrugs and rattles off their order, sticking his graded and ungraded tests into separate folders and stuffing them into the satchel at his feet.

“So,” Sam says, “what’s up, little buddy?”

Dean opens his mouth to answer, then pauses, staring at Sam. “ _Little buddy?_ ”

Sam lets his head thunk down on the table before sitting back up. “This is what happens when you spend too much time around kids, man. The other day Jess had PMS and I actually said ‘What’s wrong, sport?’ to her. God.”

Dean smiles, feeling less nervous already. “Okay, so. There’s someone I want you to meet. Not like… _tonight_ , but soon.”

“Someone? Like… _someone_ someone? Like a person you’re dating? You’ve been dating someone?”

“Sort of? We kind of just decided this week to become a uh… a thing. I figure part of becoming official is having you two meet.”

“Wow, Dean. This is unexpected.”

Dean scratches the back of his neck, uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

“Well, I’d love to meet her.”

Dean makes an awkward grimace, and Sam narrows his eyes.

“Oh god, Dean. Please tell me it’s not Lisa. Please? Look, she really is a nice girl, but I’m _not_ going to be able to act like she didn’t break your heart and give you _chlamydia_.”

“Dude, no. It’s not Lisa. It’s someone you haven’t met, you mook. That’s why I said there’s someone I want you to _meet_.”

“Well then why the weird face?”

“Emotional baggage.”

“Huh?”

“It’s hard to say, even though I know it’s not a big deal. Or it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“Is she underage?”

Dean stares at Sam, disgusted. “Jesus Christ, Sam. Stop guessing. You are officially _terrible_ at guessing.”

“Well if you would just spit it out.”

“This isn’t easy for me, okay?!”

Sam tilts his head, narrowing his eyes again briefly before they widen. “Holy shit you’re dating a guy.” Dean actually twiddles his thumbs. “So a while back, when you were using suspicious pronouns…”

“I lied.”

“Why?”

Dean glares. “You’ve met our dad.”

“So? _I’m_ not Dad. I’m me.”

“Yes, Sammy.”

“And I told you about _my_ boyfriend.”

“Yes, Sammy.”

Sam pauses. “I’m totally making this about me while you’re trying to be open with me, aren’t I?”

Dean can’t help but smile at that. “Yes, Sammy.”

“Sorry, man. Tell me about him.”

“Okay, uh… his name is Castiel Novak.”

“The owner of that bakery you keep going to?” Dean gives Sam a confused look. “I looked the place up after the _fifth_ box from there I found in the fridge.”

“Okay, well… yeah. He’s a pastry chef, and he owns the place with his brother. He’s kind of odd sometimes, but nice, so nice, and witty, and sometimes I feel like I don’t know much about him, and other times I feel like I’ve known him and liked him for years...” Dean stops talking when he catches the big, sappy smile on his brother’s face. “ _What_?”

Sam shrugs. “Nothing! It’s just… nice to see you excited about someone.”

Dean glares and stands up, heading out of the room. “I think we’re done here. I’m gonna wash my hands and hop into my sweats before the pizza gets here. You can sit there being happy for me.”

“I will!”

 

***

 

Dean decides to hop in the shower for a few minutes, and when he gets out the smell of pizza has him rushing down the stairs. “Pizza!”

Sam rolls his eyes when Dean comes bounding into the kitchen. “It’s just pizza, dude.”

“Well if you’re not excited, I can eat yours too, and you can go have a salad.”

“Yeah right, jerk.”

“Biiiitch.”

They carry the pizzas, two plates, and two beers out to the living room. The last time they had a pizza night Sam got to pick the movie, so it’s Dean’s turn. He plucks his copy of Iron Man off the shelf and holds it up to Sam with a thumbs up, grinning at Sam’s nod of approval. Dean picks Iron Man a lot.

Tony Stark is wreaking havoc on his captors when Dean realizes Sam is staring at him, and probably has been for a while. “Dude, can I help you?”

“I’m trying to picture you with a guy.”

“Ew, what?”

“No, _no,_ not like that, Jesus.”

“Uh huh. Fuckin’ perv, I’m telling Jess.”

“You suck.”

Dean reaches forward, grabbing his allocated slice of Sam’s pizza off the coffee table. “I mean if you’re that curious to picture it, we can fool around in front of you or something.”

“ _Anyway,_ when am I going to meet him?”

“I uh… soon. I don’t know. Should I like… bring you by the bakery? Fuck, I don’t know,” Dean says, feeling like a relationship novice, even though he knows he’s not.

“Well with Cassie…”

“Ugh.”

“With Cassie, you brought her over for Thanksgiving at Mom and Dad’s, and with Lisa…”

“Ugh!”

“I already knew her from yoga, so there was no big intro. And with all your other lady _friends_ , I just met them occasionally if they were at your old place when I stopped by.”

“Okay? What’s with the recap?”

“I’m _brainstorming,_ bitch.”

“That’s my line.”

“Okay well this is a big deal to you, right? Be honest, Dean.”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Okay, so maybe not dropping by his work, then. He’ll be busy, and there will be customers around, you’ll get all tense.”

“No I won’t.”

“Sure thing, Dean. Obviously bringing him to the next family gathering wouldn’t be very bright, unless Mom keeps Dad muzzled in the basement or something.”

“Pass.”

“Well look, I think the obvious answer is to have him over for dinner here. Jess can meet him too, or she can go to a movie if you want it to only be me. There won’t be extra people around, he can see your living space, blah blah.”

“This is scary as fuck, Sammy.”

“I know, but something tells me you wouldn’t be even letting me know he existed if you didn’t kind of trust him, and like I said, I’m not Dad. You don’t have to be afraid, it’s just dinner. Now eat your pizza and watch the movie.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

 

***

 

SENT - 06/14/14 - 11:16pm - Soooooo…

RECEIVED - 06/14/14 - 11:23pm - Soooooo?

SENT - 06/14/14 - 11:27pm - Dinner at my house Friday? Lovely meal, meet Sam and Jess, check out my boring room?

RECEIVED - 06/14/14 - 11:30pm - Your room? Are you going to fuck me after dinner?

Dean feels his blood making a mad rush for his dick at that.

SENT - 06/14/14 - 11:32pm - Dude, no. I just wanted you to see my room because you never have. Even though it’s small and boring.

SENT - 06/14/14 - 11:33pm - Unless you actually want me to fuck you in my room. That can probably be arranged.

RECEIVED - 06/14/14 - 11:35pm - I don’t think that’s the impression I want to make on your family.

SENT - 06/14/14 - 11:38pm - Maybe you’ll get a look at my bare walls and twin sized mattress and be overcome with animal lust.

RECEIVED - 06/14/14 - 11:42pm - Perhaps we should be getting to know each other a little better.

RECEIVED - 06/14/14 - 11:43pm - You have a very poor grasp of my turn ons, apparently.

SENT - 06/14/14 - 11:49pm - What ARE your turn ons?

RECEIVED - 06/15/14 - 12:03am - Well I like biting, some light nipple play, nothing outrageous springs to mind. I haven’t really explored my turn ons, I suppose.

SENT - 06/15/14 - 12:05am - Ever worn panties?

Dean can’t believe he just sent that.

RECEIVED - 06/15/14 - 12:06am - No.

RECEIVED - 06/15/14 - 12:07am - I am not averse to trying that, though.

SENT - 06/15/14 - 12:08am - I have a pair. Pink. Satin.

RECEIVED - 06/15/14 - 12:09am - Left over from an old girlfriend?

SENT - 06/15/14 - 12:11am - Nope. Bought them online about a year ago.

RECEIVED - 06/15/14 - 12:12am - Really?

SENT - 06/15/14 - 12:14am - Yeah. Only wore them a few times. When Lisa wasn’t home. Couldn’t bring myself to tell her.

RECEIVED - 06/15/14 - 12:17am - I want to see. Take a photo in them.

Dean stares at his phone for three full minutes before going to his closet. He finds the panties stuffed inside a pillowcase and buried under a bunch of ratty old t-shirts in an old duffel bag. He balls them up in one hand and heads for the bathroom, phone in the other hand.

It’s when he’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror, in a pair of pink underwear that don’t quite fit the way they used to while holding up his phone that Dean starts to feel kind of ridiculous. He’s going to end up with his pictures on that Guys With iPhones website. He snaps the photo anyway, then decides to leave the panties on under his sweatpants and t-shirt. He scurries back to his bedroom and debates sending the photo.

SENT - 06/15/14 - 12:33am - I don’t know if I want to send this. I have squishy love handles.

RECEIVED - 06/15/14 - 12:35am - And?

SENT - 06/15/14 - 12:37am - Having a muffin top in a pair of pink panties isn’t sexy.

RECEIVED - 06/15/14 - 12:39am - Says who? Send the photo, Dean.

SENT - 06/15/14 - 12:40am - <IMAGE ATTACHED>

RECEIVED - 06/15/14 - 12:42am - Come over. Now. And keep them on.

 


	11. Chapter 11

It’s well after one by the time Dean gets to Castiel’s place. He kept the underwear on, but changed into jeans, a t-shirt, and his leather jacket for the drive. Castiel’s door swings open before Dean’s even raised his hand to knock. His heart kicks wildly in his chest as Castiel yanks him inside, then shoves him up against the door to close it.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says with a smirk.

“You’re killing me,” Castiel growls. “Here I am, preparing to go to sleep when you have to start talking about your _panties_.” Castiel’s tone is almost angry, but he’s also sucking on Dean’s earlobe and yanking open the fly of Dean’s jeans, so he must not be very upset.

“It’s criminal how fucking sexy you are,” Castiel says.

“Tell that to my muffin top.”

Castiel finishes pulling Dean’s pants open, and nips at his neck. Dean starts to pull away as Castiel’s hands make their way down to that excess bit of fat on his sides, but Castiel holds tight.

“You think this changes something?” Castiel asks, smoothing his hands against Dean’s sides. “You think this somehow makes you less desirable?”

“Okay well when you put it like _that--_ ”

“You make me so crazy, Dean… I’ve never--” Castiel cuts himself off and sighs, reaching up to pull Dean out of his jacket. Dean can’t even find it in him to protest when his favorite jacket is dropped on the floor, not when Castiel has his nose buried in Dean’s neck like an animal scenting its mate, not when Castiel has a death grip on Dean’s body. Dean’s never felt like this with a sexual partner, like he’s being _savored_. He can feel Castiel’s desire like a heaviness in the air, and he wants more of it. He’s mustering up the courage to say what he wants, while Castiel is pulling him out of his shirt, eagerly unwrapping Dean like he's a present.

“So,” Dean says, trying and failing to sound casual, “I don’t suppose you have any condoms.”

Castiel pulls away abruptly, staring at Dean with shocked eyes. “Y-you mean, to--”

“Wanna feel you, Cas.”

The stupefied and excited look on Castiel’s face is priceless. “There is a convenience store several blocks away. It’s open all night, I c-could…”

“I think that’s a great idea, and maybe if you have some lube here, I could get myself ready while you’re gone.”

Castiel almost knocks over his nightstand in his rush to pull out a small bottle of lube. Dean sits on the bed and starts pulling off his shoes with a grin. Castiel grabs his car keys and phone, then runs out the front door for a moment before running back inside to kiss Dean, pressing him down onto the bed.

“I will return very soon,” Castiel promises.

“No speeding. It’ll be hard to have sex if you get in a car wreck. Also, you might want this,” Dean says, picking up Castiel’s wallet off the nightstand.

“Yes, buying condoms will be much easier with this, thank you.”

 

***

 

Dean’s naked, two slick fingers buried in his ass, when he hears the sound of his cell phone ringing. His phone is in his jacket, which is still by the door, so he reluctantly pulls his hand free and pads over to his jacket, using his discarded shirt to clean off his fingers.

“Hello?”

“I wanted you to know that there was a problem with the register,” Castiel says. “They’re fixing it. I didn’t want you to think that I had crashed my car.”

Dean lays back down on the bed. “That’s actually very considerate.”

“I’m thinking about leaving and searching for another open store.”

“Or we could not use a condom.”

Castiel is silent for a moment. “While I _am_ disease free, and believe that you are too, I don’t want to rush into something you’re not truly ready for just because you’re horny and impatient.”

“But--”

“I’m sure you’ll thank me later.”

“Yeah right,” Dean grumbles. He holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder so that he can lube his fingers up and get back to work. He gasps once he breaches himself.

“A-are you,” Castiel says slowly.

“Getting myself nice and ready for your return? Yes. I’m two fingers deep, Cas, I haven’t felt a stretch like this in ages. I should do this more often when I’m jacking off.”

“ _Dean._ ”

“It’s gonna be tight, Cas. Even if you’re gone another half hour and I keep fingering myself the whole time, I bet it’d be tight.”

“Dean, there are _people_ in here.”

Dean spreads his fingers apart and moans softly. “Want to put me on speaker? Hope I’m not too tired when you get back,” Dean says, faking a yawn.

“This is cruel.”

“You don’t sound very excited for someone that’s minutes away from pounding some hot, virgin ass.”

“ _I will hang up on you,_ ” Castiel hisses.

“Aren’t they fucking done yet?”

“No. I’m really thinking about finding another store.”

“Or you could come back here.”

“Dean.”

“Dude, it’s not like I’m _drunk_ or something, you won’t be taking advantage of me, and I’m up to three fingers.”

“I don’t want you to regret making a decision under the influence of hormones.”

“But--”

“Give it time.”

“Yeah, but Cas--”

“The register is fixed, and there are five people ahead of me. Please make sure Ezekiel has enough food.”

The line goes dead. Rude. Dean sighs and cleans his hand off on his shirt again. That’s definitely going to need a wash. Dean doesn’t see Ezekiel’s food dish, or Ezekiel for that matter. He stands there for a moment, confused, before he realizes Castiel must have put her in the bathroom. He checks the room and sure enough, Ezekiel is snoozing on the small rug in front of the shower. Her food and water dishes are full, so Dean closes the door gently and heads back out to the main room. He pulls the panties back on, fighting the urge to stroke himself through the satin.

A few minutes pass and Dean starts to wonder if Castiel lied about the register being fixed just to get out of the conversation they were having. He hopes he didn’t actually make Castiel uncomfortable, the guy was trying to respect the boundaries Dean had set out previously.

Feeling antsy, Dean pulls on his jeans and steps outside. He feels a little exposed, but he likes the idea of Castiel pulling up and seeing Dean barefoot and shirtless and waiting for him. He’s outside for maybe a minute before someone approaches him.

“Get thrown out?” the man asks. He’s about Dean’s height and age, attractive, dark skin, predatory glint in his eyes.

“What?”

“You’re standing outside barely dressed, no cigarette or phone in your hand. Thought maybe you got tossed out.”

“Uh no,” Dean says, suddenly cursing himself for not pulling a shirt on. “Just getting some air.”

“You a friend of Castiel’s?”

“Yeah. He’s out at the store.”

The man blatantly drags his eyes over Dean’s body, and Dean regrets coming out here, particularly when the man does the one-armed wall lean, like they’re in a damn bar or something. Dean’s incredibly uncomfortable, brain looking for a way out of this situation that doesn’t involve throwing punches and running away.

“Name’s Gordon Walker.”

“Uh, Dean. Winchester.”

“So, Dean. Are you a friend, or a _friend_ of Castiel’s?”

“Uh, the second one. We’re a thing. An item. A couple.”

Gordon smirks. “Well, do you have room for another _friend_ , Dean?”

Dean stares, jaw hanging open. This guy is weirdly magnetic, but he has nothing on Castiel. Still, Dean feels like a babbling moron right now. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s wearing pink panties under his jeans, or the fact that he can feel how open he still is from fingering himself. He definitely feels off-kilter and vulnerable in this situation, and considers walking back inside without actually saying anything.

“Um no,” Dean finally says, “I’m good. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure, Dean?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

“You don’t _sound_ sure.”

“He’s sure,” Castiel says.

Dean nearly jumps out of his fucking skin. He didn’t even hear Castiel’s car coming back. Castiel is in his plaid blue pajama bottoms, a white t-shirt, and dark slippers, but with the way he’s glaring at Gordon he actually looks very intimidating.

“Oh, hey Cas,” Gordon says casually.

“That’s Castiel to you.”

“Right. How are you?”

“I’m about five seconds from breaking your damn nose, _Gordon_.”

“Wow, have you ever considered anger management classes?”

Castiel takes a step closer. “Perhaps the court will order me to take them after you file the assault charge.”

Gordon snorts. “Whatever, Castiel. You have yourself a good night, Dean.” He turns and walks into the apartment next to Castiel’s.

Dean turns to look at Castiel, eyebrows raised. “What was _that_?”

Castiel stares down at his slippers, looking sheepish. “We have a history.”

“Another ex?”

“No, he is the man Bartholomew was cheating on me with.”

“Well, shit.”

“Yes. Neither of us are dating Bartholomew now, and yet he treats me as a rival. It was _incredibly_ unfortunate that we ended up being neighbors. He is very antagonistic, and I am obviously reaching the end of my patience with him.”

“He sounds swell!”

“I apologize, Dean. I can have a bit of a temper with my enemies, but I hope you don’t think I would ever hurt someone I uh… you.”

“Nah Cas, I ain’t worried about that. Just feeling embarrassed and stupid. I don’t know why I didn’t just walk away… the guy had _thrall_ or something. Maybe the panties are throwing me off my game.”

Castiel looks down at Dean’s waist, lips parting in awe.

“I got anxious in there waiting for you,” Dean says, “so I came out here.”

“And you encountered Gordon,” Castiel says, still eyeing Dean’s pants.

“Uh. Yeah. It was uncomfortable.”

“I try not to be a… jealous type of person, but I still feel… I still feel jealous anyway. I trust you Dean, but I despised the way he was looking at you.”

“I can’t say I liked it either. Guy’s got a real predatory vibe. But you know what might cheer me up?”

“What’s that?”

“Making use of what you have in that bag you’re holding.”

“That,” Castiel says, crowding Dean against the door, “is an excellent idea.”

Castiel drops his bag from the store, then loops his fingers in Dean’s belt loops to pull their hips together. He’s got this hungry look in his eyes like he wants to fuck Dean right where they’re standing. If it wouldn’t get them thrown in jail, Dean would totally be down with that. Castiel kisses Dean hard, sliding his hands down the back of Dean’s jeans. Dean moans, probably too loudly, when Castiel’s slender fingers find their way to his hole, pressing and rubbing.

Dean’s heart skips a beat when Castiel pulls his hands away and sinks to his knees, but he's only grabbing the bag off the ground. “I have half a mind to fuck you right over the hood of my car.”

“Yeah? Wanna give the neighbors a show?”

“Get inside, Dean.”

Dean turns to open the door, thunking his head against it when Castiel presses up against him from behind. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep distracting me.”

“Alright,” Castiel says, grinding his erection against Dean’s ass.

Dean gets the door open, practically tripping over his own feet in his haste to get inside. This stormy, sexual energy Castiel is putting out is making Dean crazy. Once they’re inside, Castiel kicks the door closed and throws the bag from the store onto the bed. He presses back up behind Dean, hands going to Dean’s zipper. He pulls the zipper down then nudges Dean forward to the bed. A hand presses against Dean’s dick, stroking him over the satin.

“Shit,” Dean mutters. Castiel manhandles Dean until he’s kneeling and bent over the side of the bed, then yanks Dean’s jeans and the panties down as far as they’ll go. Dean shudders when he feels Castiel’s thumb trail down the cleft of his ass, dipping inside.

“This won’t do,” Castiel says, disapproving.

“You were gone a long time.”

Castiel just tuts and grabs the lube off the nightstand, slicking up his fingers and pushing three into Dean right off the bat. Dean makes an odd, strangled noise that would make more sense coming from a seal.

Castiel chuckles. “Sexy.”

“Bite me.”

Castiel thrusts his fingers slowly, spreading them apart. “In a few minutes I will.”

“I’ll like it,” Dean promises.

Dean squeaks when Castiel’s fingers brush against his prostate. How embarrassing. After a few minutes, Castiel pulls his fingers out of Dean. Dean feels an excited shiver run through him at the sound of rustling fabric behind him. When Castiel reaches past him to grab the condoms off the bed, his bare erection presses against Dean’s ass, and Dean can’t help but let out a moan. This is really happening.

“Fuck, Cas. Come on.”

Castiel ruts against Dean for a moment before dipping his head to bite Dean on that sweet spot between neck and shoulder. He reaches down, rubbing the head of his dick against Dean’s entrance.

“Oh, _fuck_. Put it in, please,” Dean begs.

“Almost.” Castiel pulls away to focus on getting the box open. The sound of a wrapper crinkling has Dean’s heart beating faster.

There’s the sound of Castiel slicking up his length, and then that pressure is back at Dean’s ass, pressing, a hand gripping Dean’s hip, and then Dean’s body is opening up a little more to let Castiel inside.

“Oh, oh, oh _shit,_ ” Dean groans.

Castiel pauses, the hand at Dean’s hip moving to his ass to hold him open. Dean’s dick twitches hard at the realization that Castiel must be watching his dick slowly making its way inside Dean’s body, and the shallow thrusts he’s making to work himself in deeper and deeper.

Dean’s vaguely aware that this is a little painful, but mostly he’s focused on the stunned little breaths he can hear Castiel letting out. It doesn’t take much time for the pain to recede to a dull and… _interesting_ ache. Dean’s never had more than a few fingers inside himself before, and there’s an odd feeling of fullness that’s overwhelming him.

Once Castiel is all the way inside, he halts again, both hands digging into Dean’s hips in a way Dean hopes is going to leave lasting marks.

“Cas,” Dean mutters. He buries his face in Castiel’s bedspread, spreading his knees apart as far as they’ll go. Castiel has his head pressed against Dean’s back, and for a moment the little pants Dean can hear sound so vulnerable that Dean wonders if Castiel is okay.

Then just like that the quiet moment is over. Castiel pulls back, then pushes forward, hips smacking against Dean’s ass, setting up a steady pace. “You feel good like this, Dean.”

“Fuck. Fuck, right back at you. Damn, should have done this so much sooner, could’ve-- fuck-- tried this years ago.”

“No, I like it this way. Being your first. It’s only fair.” Castiel shoves in particularly hard and Dean cries out instead of responding. The feeling of Castiel dragging inside him is setting his nerves on fire in the most amazing way.

“I wish I could do this every day,” Castiel moans, nipping at Dean’s back. “I wish I could come home from work and find you bent over in your cute underwear, already slippery and open for me.”

He sure as fuck paints an enticing picture. Dean is about to try stringing some words together to form a reply when Castiel pulls out, drawing out a sad whimper from Dean.

“On the bed,” Castiel growls. Dean scrambles to his feet, pulling off his jeans and the panties. He clambers onto the bed gracelessly, looking up to watch Castiel finish undressing. Castiel is gorgeous; tan skin, lean lines, taut muscles, sharp hipbones. Dean can’t help but lick his lips at the sight of him. Dean parts his legs, reaching out for Castiel as he crawls on the bed. Castiel is on Dean in a second and licking into his mouth. They grind against each other, sliding their dicks together until Dean pulls away to speak.

“You… are kind of good at this you know. I mean obviously _I’m_ awesome at it, but I’ve kind of been at it for a while.”

Castiel rubs a thumb against Dean’s lower lip, shuddering when Dean flicks his tongue against it. “I’ve perhaps done a modicum of research on this in the past.”

Oh, this should be good. “Research?”

“When I was with Crowley. I read some books, browsed internet articles, watched pornography. It’s no replacement for actual experience of course, but I thought it would save me some possible embarrassment.”

Dean grins. “You did _homework._ ”

Castiel grabs one of his pillows. “Lift.” Dean lifts his hips for the pillow to go underneath. “If I’m being honest, there’s a small chance the pornography was more for recreational purposes, than any sort of learning experience.”

Dean fakes a gasp. “Scandalous! Watching porn for your own enjoyment!”

“Truly shameful.” Castiel reaches down to line himself up and push back inside. Dean moans happily, Castiel’s dick is pressing inside in a new and delicious angle. Castiel spreads his hands out over the soft skin at Dean’s waist before gripping his hips, pulling him into every thrust. Castiel is either a magician or someone with beginner’s luck, because the angle he’s chosen is giving Dean some _awesome_ if a bit overwhelming prostate stimulation on nearly every shove of their bodies.

It’s weird, being on his back with his legs wrapped around someone’s waist when Dean is used to being the other one in this scenario. He’d been somewhat reluctant to bottom with Victor during their ill-fated attempt; they’d actually decided who would top with a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Dean had been so nervous then. Afraid it would somehow make him less of a man. But this doesn’t make him _anything_ other than someone whose toes are tingling with all the sexual energy. He does feel vulnerable like this, but even that isn’t a bad thing. Just a new sexual dynamic.

“I must be doing a terrible job if you’re thinking that hard,” Castiel says.

Dean lets out a slightly breathless laugh. “Believe it or not, I was distracted by how much I’m enjoying this.”

Castiel laces their fingers together, pinning Dean’s hands over his head and moving in to kiss him. Dean feels surrounded like this, Castiel holding him down, bodies slapping together. He’s vaguely aware that he’s making helpless, muffled whimpers into their kiss with every push of Castiel’s hips. Castiel moves to kiss at Dean’s neck and then there’s nothing to block the sounds he’s making. He didn’t know he could sound like this, like some wounded and breathless creature.

Dean isn’t aware of how close he is to coming until Castiel bites his neck, and then suddenly he’s at and over the edge, coming untouched between them with a series of curses shouted at the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut so tight he’s seeing flashes of color.

Castiel looks down between them, looking _very_ surprised. “ _Fuck_ , that’s hot. You’re amazing,” he says, shuddering. He only manages another four hard thrusts before he’s coming too, moaning and panting into Dean’s collarbone.

For a few minutes, it’s quiet save for the sound of their slowly calming breathing. Dean is the first to break the silence. “Do you think Gordon heard all that?”

Castiel snorts and pulls out. He stares at his dick for a long moment before he seems to realize he was doing something and pulls off the condom. “It’s possible. Sometimes I hear music coming from his apartment, maybe he can hear things coming from mine.”

“Someone’s getting a noise complaint.”

Castiel nuzzles Dean’s neck then stands, headed for the bathroom. “Worth it.”

 

***

 

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 8:38pm - Just finished a trip to the laundry room. The things you left behind are clean.

SENT - 06/17/14 - 9:01pm - I bet you’re snuggled up in my shirt right now.

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:03pm - No, but I might snuggle up with this warm pair of panties.

SENT - 06/17/14 - 9:05pm - Put them on and send me a photo. Fair’s fair.

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:13pm - You’re seriously telling me to wear your panties?

SENT - 06/17/14 - 9:15pm - And send me a photo.

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:21pm - I think I understand some of the allure.

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:22pm - It’s a very sensual fabric to have pressed against my skin.

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:24pm - I can’t stop smoothing my hands over myself.

SENT - 06/17/14 - 9:25pm - Where’s my photo?

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:29pm - busy

SENT - 06/17/14 - 9:31pm - What are you doing?

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:33pm - Just feeling the fabric, really. There’s a chance I’ll need to wash these again.

SENT - 06/17/14 - 9:34pm - PHOTO CAS

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:37pm - <IMAGE ATTACHED>

SENT - 06/17/14 - 9:38pm - fucking fuck cas

SENT - 06/17/14 - 9:39pm - tell me i can come over

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:42pm - I’d have to stop touching myself, wouldn’t I?

SENT - 06/17/14 - 9:43pm - CAS

RECEIVED - 06/17/14 - 9:46pm - Shouldn’t you be getting in your car?

If someone had told Dean a few months ago that he’d be letting a guy in panties-- _his_ panties-- fuck him, he would have laughed in their fucking face.

  
  


 


	12. Chapter 12

RECEIVED - 06/20/14 - 1:13pm - Should I bring anything?

SENT - 06/20/14 - 1:37pm - Bring what? Sam and Jess are cooking dinner.

RECEIVED - 06/20/14 - 2:09pm - It’s often customary to bring something to dinner at someone else’s home.

RECEIVED - 06/20/14 - 2:10pm - Wine, maybe. Or a dessert.

SENT - 06/20/14 - 2:17pm - I don’t think anyone would say no to a dessert, but don’t feel obligated okay?

RECEIVED - 06/20/14 - 2:20pm - It will keep me busy for a while at least. Does anyone have any allergies?

SENT - 06/20/14 - 2:25pm - Well don’t put any shellfish in your dessert. Jess will break out in hives.

RECEIVED - 06/20/14 - 2:27pm - Why would I put shellfish in a dessert?

RECEIVED - 06/20/14 - 2:28pm - Okay pretend I didn’t say that.

SENT - 06/20/14 - 2:30pm - Thank god you’re pretty.

RECEIVED - 06/20/14 - 2:33pm - I’m nervous!

SENT - 06/20/14 - 2:34pm - Well don’t be, we’re nice people.

SENT - 06/20/14 - 2:35pm - Damn Bobby’s giving me the stink eye I’ll TTYL.

 

***

 

Dean spends over an hour tidying up the house, ignoring the baffled looks on Sam and Jess’ faces. He knows everyone will get along. He knows Sam and Jess don’t care that Castiel’s a man. He knows that Castiel isn’t going to care if the house isn’t immaculate. He’s nervous anyway. He’s got an odd feeling like something is going to go wrong, but he doesn’t know what. He changes his shirt seven times in ten minutes, and can’t stop checking his hair in the mirror. By the time seven o’clock rolls around, Dean is wearing a pair of dark blue jeans that he never wears, and a moss green henley that he’s been led to believe brings out his eyes. He’s freshly shaven and his hair is moussed within an inch of its life. When he comes downstairs to make sure he didn’t miss anything when he cleaned the kitchen, Sam stares at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I’ve  _never_ seen you get like this over someone,” Sam says.

“What? Shut up. I’m fine,” Dean says, sounding unconvincing even to his own ears. The doorbell rings and Dean actually shoves Sam to the side in his haste to get out of the kitchen and over to the front door. “I’LL GET IT!”

Dean yanks open the door, and stares. Castiel is wearing slacks and a  _waistcoat_ in matching shades of black, with a dark blue oxford and a black tie. He looks… edible. He also looks terrified, clutching a box from his bakery like a life raft.

“Hey,” Dean says awkwardly.

“Hello, Dean.”

“You look…”

“You too.”

Someone snorts loudly from the kitchen and Dean sighs, pulling the door all the way open. “So, ah… come on in.”

Castiel steps inside, still clutching his box and looking like he’s five seconds from bolting. Dean gently pries the box from his hands. “Glad I’m not the only one pissing his pants, here.”

“I’ve never done this. Met a man’s family.”

Dean leads Castiel into the kitchen. “Well, at least these two aren’t that… uh… scary…” Dean stares, slack jawed, at Sam and Jess. They’re standing in the kitchen, each holding a knife over their head, twin maniacal grins on their faces. Dean wants to die.

“Cas,” Dean says slowly, “this is my brother, Sam, and my sister-in-law, Jess. Guys, this is Castiel. Please put the knives down.”

Sam hands his knife to Jess, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “Wanted to get off on the right foot. It’s good to meet you, Castiel, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

For a long and awkward moment Castiel just  _stares_ at Sam’s hand, but he finally snaps out of it and shakes it, then Jess’ hand. “It’s… it’s good to meet you too.”

“I hope we didn’t freak you out! It was all Sam’s idea. He’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is,” Jess says with a wink.

“Hey!”

“Anyway, dinner will be a few more minutes, so if you want to show Castiel the house, Sam and I will get the dining room ready.”

Wow. They almost never use the dining room to eat. It’s always either the kitchen table, or the couch in front of the TV for meals.

Dean leads Castiel through the various rooms of the house, lingering the longest at the assortment of family photos hung up along the staircase. It’s not long before they end up in Dean’s room.

“So, these are the bare walls and the twin mattress that I’ve heard so much about,” Castiel says.

“Yeah, well. I got rid of a ton of my shit before I moved in with Lisa, and after we broke up I didn’t want to fight with her over what I got to keep just so I could hang on to a bunch of crap that reminded me of our life together, you know? I miss our bed, though. Memory foam, man. Great stuff. I don’t miss all her yoga guru posters and  _decor_ and shit, but I do miss that bed.”

Castiel ruffles Dean’s hair. “Poor thing.”

Dean bats Castiel’s hands away. “Hey! This took me forever!”

“You spent a lot of time getting dressed up for me?”

“Yes. No! Shut up.”

“Relax, Dean. I’m terrified, you’re terrified, we’re terrified together.”

“Yeah, it’s real romantic.”

Castiel thumbs the hem of Dean’s shirt. “I like this. Brings out your eyes.”

“I  _know_ ,” Dean says, leering. “I like your getup too. You look like a sexy librarian, is it new?” Dean means the last bit as a cliche joke, but Castiel gets a startled look on his face and stares at the floor. “ _Is it_ new?”

“Maybe.”

“How new?”

“I bought it an hour ago.”

Dean has no hope of fighting the grin spreading over his face. “Are you serious?”

“I changed my clothes several times, and nothing seemed right, so I drove to the mall, decided on this outfit, and changed in the bathroom of the food court. Two teenage girls  _catcalled me_ when I was leaving.”

Dean’s hands move to Castiel’s waist, rubbing gently. “Well you look good. Real good. Good enough that I’m crushed we’re not fucking right now.”

“Dean,” Castiel warns.

“You should dress like this the next time we spend the night together. You can be the stern, sexy professor, and I can be the naughty student you caught in your office wearing nothing but a pair of panties.”

Castiel makes an odd squeaking sound, shifting uncomfortably. “Damn it, Dean.” A split second later they’re kissing, and Dean is kicking his door closed before shoving Castiel onto the bed.

 

***

 

Five minutes later, Dean is changing into a different shirt before dragging Castiel to the bathroom for some much needed hand washing and hair fixing.

 

***

 

They head downstairs to see how dinner is coming and find Sam with his face buried in his arms on the kitchen table. Jess comes in from the dining room, smiling brightly.

“Hey, guys! You’re just in time, dinner’s all set out,” Jess says.

Dean nods toward Sam. “What’s with him?”

“Oh he’s being a big baby,” Jess says, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “He went up to let you guys know dinner was almost ready and apparently he heard some things he wasn’t prepared to hear coming from your room.” Jess ruffles Sam’s hair and he lets out a sound of pure anguish.

Dean glances at Castiel to see his face has turned an impressive shade of red as the poor guy starts to mutter profuse and frantic apologies.

“Are you going to sit here being awkward while dinner gets cold? Up!” Jess says, dragging Sam to his feet. She herds them all into the dining room.

Sam and Castiel’s discomfort is infectious, and Dean finds himself staring awkwardly at his plate while Sam dishes out spaghetti and garlic bread and avoids eye contact with everyone.

“Smells good,” Castiel mumbles.

“Yeah, uh… Jess and I took a few cooking classes. We make this a lot.”

“Yep! Gotta make sure Dean is eating a home cooked meal at least a few nights a week!” Jess says cheerfully. “Otherwise he’d just eat Hot Pockets and treats from your bakery every day.”

Castiel looks over at Dean, who scowls.

“Lisa did most of the cooking, okay?” Dean grumbles. “I’m good with a grill though,” he adds, shoving a massive forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.

“You’re a grown man, Dean,” Castiel says disapprovingly.

It takes Dean forever to chew his food so he can answer. “Oh my God, you sound like  _Sam._ ”

“I think you should start giving Dean bran muffins instead of cupcakes,” Sam says.

Dean looks at Castiel with horrified eyes. “Do  _not_ listen to him.”

“I wouldn’t want to have a negative impact on your health,” Castiel says. Dean can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.

“They’re exaggerating! I’m fine!”

“Says the man who was wailing last week about the fifteen pounds he’s gained this year,” Sam says.

“It was  _thirteen,_ you dick,” Dean says.

“Well I  _certainly_ don’t want to have a negative impact on your self esteem, Dean,” Castiel says.

“You haven’t!”

“Perhaps I could cut back on the free pastries…”

“But I love the free pastries! How about if I promise to eat better at home?”

“Well, perhaps.”

“I’ll be thin and sexy again in no time,” Dean promises.

Castiel reaches over to take Dean’s hand in his own. “There is nothing wrong with the way you look. You are sexy  _now_. You would be sexy if you gained more weight. This is about the effect a poor diet can have on your health and self image, I assure you.”

Jess lets out a tiny “Aww!” then claps a hand over her mouth when Dean glares at her.

“That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles gently before turning back to his meal. Dean takes a bite of his garlic bread, moaning at the buttery, savory flavor. Sam’s fork clatters to the table, a haunted look on his face.

“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asks.

“That is the  _exact_ noise I heard when I came to get you for dinner.”

Castiel covers his face with his hands while Jess laughs so hard she chokes a little and Sam starts slapping her back.

On the whole, the dinner is going better than Dean thought it would.


	13. Chapter 13

The dessert Castiel brought is very well received, a series of bite-sized glazed fruit tarts so delicious Dean embarrasses the entire table with his moans.

After everyone has eaten, Castiel insists he and Dean clean up. Sam thanks Castiel, saying how nice it was to meet him, then excuses himself to his room with a headache. Jess follows after him, grinning.

“He got the same headache after he walked in on me with my head up my girlfriend’s skirt in high school,” Dean says.

Castiel shakes his head and sighs. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Hey, don’t be. He’s traumatized by _my_ sex noises, not yours,” Dean says, gathering plates.

“Still, it was a terrible first impression.”

“He liked you! He wouldn’t have been so over the top dramatic otherwise. Trust me, baby.”

“It was humiliating.”

“You didn’t mind when we were talking about the fact that _Gordon_ might have heard us fucking,” Dean says with a leer.

Castiel starts filling the sink with water. “Gordon isn’t my boyfriend’s _brother_.”

Dean pauses in loading the sink with dishes, giving Castiel a sideways grin. “I like it when you call me that.”

Castiel’s cheeks redden as he rolls up his sleeves and starts washing the first of the dishes. “You are, right? I didn’t speak out of turn?”

Dean wraps his arms around Castiel from behind, nuzzling at the back of his neck. “We’re an us, Cas. Boyfriends, partners, what have you.” He tightens his grip drops his voice to a whisper. “You’re mine.”

Castiel shudders. “O-okay.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, Dean wrapped around Castiel, who makes a valiant effort to focus on his task, continuing to wash dishes even with Dean grinding a growing erection against his ass. Castiel is about halfway through his pile when Dean starts whispering in his ear again.

“Wanna fuck you, Cas. Wanna pull you upstairs and fuck you right into my sad little mattress.”

Castiel drops the handful of flatware he was about to rinse, pushing his ass back against Dean.

“Too bad you’ve got a pet at home,” Dean says, dragging his hands towards Castiel’s zipper. “Bet you need to go feed her. What a shame.”

“I left her extra food and water. Just in case.”

“Planning to get lucky tonight?”

“Just being prepared.”

“Well I have a shiny new box of condoms in my room because I _am_ planning to get lucky tonight.”

“Dean, I’m _cleaning._ ”

Dean starts undoing the button and zipper of Castiel’s slacks, sliding a hand inside. “Well, I’m not stopping you.”

“Mmmm... _yes_ you are.”

Dean chuckles, pulling his hands away. “Fine, fine, I’ll be right back.”

Dean heads up the stairs, walking to Sam’s room. He can hear Sam’s whining clearly. “Jess, I can’t sleep with the light on!”

“Maybe you can’t sleep because it’s _nine,_ Sam,” Jess says.

“My head is killing me, now turn off the light and snuggle me until I fall asleep.”

Dean hears an exaggerated sigh, and with a click the light under the door vanishes. Dean grins and goes to his room. _Perfect._

When Dean comes back downstairs, Castiel has made little progress with the dishes, but his pants are zipped back up.

“Doesn’t seem like you got very far with these dishes, baby,” Dean says, smirking.

“You’re an ass.”

Dean plasters himself against Castiel’s back again, grinning into his hair. “Come on, now. You did volunteer to clean up.”

“I volunteered _us_ to clean up. I don’t see you helping.”

Dean unzips Castiel's slacks again. “I’m acting in a managerial capacity.”

“And what are you managing from back there?” Castiel huffs.

Dean slowly starts pulling Castiel’s slacks and boxers down, gripping his hip when he tries to turn around.

“Dean, your _family,_ ” Castiel says.

“Has gone to sleep early due to poor Sammy’s headache.”

Castiel picks up a mixing bowl to start washing while Dean resumes pulling Castiel’s pants and underwear down. Once they’re pulled down to Castiel’s thighs, Dean yanks his own pants open, just to press his cock against the warm, firm ass in front of him.

“Been awhile since we did this, huh? And I was a tad drunk at the time,” Dean says.

Castiel gasps softly and pushes back against him. _Awesome._ Dean pulls the bottle of lube he retrieved from his room out of his back pocket. He pops the cap, stepping back to give himself room and gets his fingers coated before stuffing the bottle back in his pocket. He trails a slick finger down the cleft of Castiel’s ass, rubbing his hole firmly, possessively. This angle isn’t great, but it will work. Dean’s having too much fun to find somewhere better to do this. Castiel spreads his feet apart as far as they’ll go, sighing as Dean rubs with more pressure. He’s been washing the same bowl for over a minute, it’s hilarious.

“I think it’s clean, Cas,” Dean says, pushing the tip of his finger inside.

Castiel lets out a soft, broken sound at the intrusion, setting the bowl in the adjacent sink to be rinsed later. He grips the edges of the counter, pushing slightly against Dean’s finger. Dean pushes his finger in further.

“Get to washing.”

Castiel starts washing a plate, and Dean delights at the fine tremor he can see in Castiel’s hands. Dean thrusts his finger shallowly while Castiel spends an eternity trying to wash the plate. It drives Dean wild how one day Castiel can be growling while he fucks Dean into his mattress, wearing Dean’s damn panties, and the next day he’s like this, shy and gently whimpering while Dean works him open. 

Castiel is still holding the same plate when Dean starts to work in a second finger. Dean glances at the windows above the sink, smiling. It’s dark outside, and with the kitchen lights on Dean can make out Castiel’s reflection fairly well. His eyes are closed, lips parted around an odd smile.

“I think you can move on to the next plate, baby,” Dean whispers.

Castiel nods slowly, opening his eyes and setting the plate aside. “I’m being thorough.”

“You’re quite a perfectionist,” Dean says, twisting and spreading his fingers. Castiel moans and shudders. “God, look at how easy you’re opening up for me, you must be eager for it.” Dean steps over to Castiel’s side.

Standing this way helps him thrust his fingers without having to hold his wrist at such an odd angle. He can also get a better look at Castiel’s flushed cock, standing proudly in the space between Castiel and the counter. He pulls his hand away, taking out the lube again and drizzling more on his fingers so he can work back in with three. Castiel squeaks but doesn’t complain, and moves on to the last two plates from dinner.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” Dean says, “I can’t seem to keep my hands away.” He thrusts his fingers in fast, savoring Castiel’s soft moans. “It’s never been like this before for me, not with anyone.”

“ _Dean._ ”

“Keep washing.”

Dean trails his free hand over to Castiel’s front, gripping his dick and stroking just as Castiel is moving a plate to the washed pile. Castiel gasps, dropping the plate. Dean winces at the loud noise, but the plate doesn’t break.

“Hey now, you gotta keep it down,” Dean says, grinning.

Castiel shudders in Dean’s grip. “You have a very attractive voice. Have I ever told you that?”

Dean chuckles, then brings his lips up to Castiel’s ear to reply. “I’m glad my voice does something for you.”

Dean moves his hand up to Castiel’s chin, turning his head and kissing him hard. He spreads his fingers apart inside of Castiel at the same time he shoves his tongue in Castiel’s mouth, swallowing the ecstatic moans.

Castiel turns in Dean’s grip and grabs Dean’s shoulders with his soapy hands, deepening the kiss. Dean pulls Castiel forward until they’re pressed chest to chest so he can continue working his fingers in and out. Castiel shifts until their bare cocks slide together and Dean’s brain completely short circuits for a minute. The hands on Dean’s shoulders move down to his pockets, searching until Castiel retrieves the condom Dean grabbed from his room. They work together to get the package open and roll the condom on Dean without having to break their kiss.

Once the condom is all the way on, Castiel pulls back with one last flick of his tongue against Dean’s lips and turns to face the sink. Dean crouches to pull Castiel’s pants and boxers down to his ankles so Castiel can get his legs further apart.

“Still gotta finish those dishes, dude,” Dean says. Castiel nods absentmindedly, picking up a fork and scrubbing it clean. Dean rubs his dick along the cleft of Castiel’s ass, grinning at the pleased hum he gets in response.

Dean holds Castiel open, giving him a gentle kiss on the back of his neck while he gives Castiel’s rim a few more teasing rubs. He waits until Castiel starts scrubbing one of the pots before he lines himself up, pushing insistently until the head of his dick makes its way inside. There’s a choked off moan, and Dean can hear Castiel scrubbing at the pot even harder as he steadily pushes in his entire length.

Once his hips are pressed against Castiel’s ass, Dean pauses for over a minute, partly to let Castiel adjust, but mostly to tease him. Castiel soldiers on, scrubbing the pot clean and moving to the lid with Dean snug in his ass.

“I like this,” Dean says. “Maybe we should just stand like this for the rest of the night, and you can keep my cock nice and warm.”

“Yeah, let’s see how long you can pull that off.”

Castiel has a point. Dean pulls out, dragging Castiel away from the sink and shoving him in the direction of the living room instead. Castiel looks kind of ridiculous hobbling with his pants around his ankles, and Dean has to hold back a laugh as he steers him over to the couch. Dean bends Castiel over the arm of the couch, giving in to a sudden urge to slap his ass.

Castiel yelps and glares at Dean. “That all you got, Kitten?”

Dean reaches down to pull Castiel open. “Watch it, _Casper_ ,” he growls, fucking back into Castiel’s warm, welcoming body. Castiel cries out, shoving his ass back against Dean.

“Fuck!” Dean builds up a punishing pace in little time, relishing the way Castiel is clutching one of the throw pillows for dear life. The angle’s a bit awkward, Dean has to stand at a bit of a crouch, but it’s getting him deep, and Castiel has to bury his face in the pillow to smother his noises.

“Yeah, keep it down, Cas. Yeesh,” Dean says. Castiel’s reply is muffled, but Dean’s pretty sure he heard the word “asshole” being growled out. He barks out a laugh, ramming in harder while Castiel continues cursing into the pillow.

After another minute Castiel turns his head to the side, panting. “Shit, I’m close Dean, I’m fucking close.”

“Fuck yeah you are,” Dean says, thrusting faster. It takes him a beat to realize Castiel is jerking his dick with one hand, ready to drop over the edge of orgasm. “Wait! Fuck! Not on the damn _couch,_ Sam will kill me!”

“ _Dean_.”

Dean pulls out, hauling Castiel to his feet. Castiel turns to face him, eyes wild and unfocused, lower lip bitten red, hair out of control. Dean pulls off his condom and works it into the pocket of the jeans still bunched up around his thighs.

“Do _not_ let me forget I put that there,” Dean says. Castiel nods, crowding up against Dean and taking both their dicks in his hand. Dean groans and wraps his hand around Castiel’s. There’s just enough precome for things to feel slick and amazing as the two of them thrust into the tight warmth of their combined hands. Castiel is panting, eyes squeezed shut, and Dean takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in his boyfriend’s mouth. He moves one hand behind Castiel, pressing two fingers into where Castiel is still slick and open, shoving him right over the edge of his orgasm. He relishes in the way Castiel is crying out into their kiss, the tense coil of his own orgasm about ready to snap. When Castiel rubs his thumb against Dean’s cockhead and mutters Dean’s name in a wrecked and needy voice the coil snaps, leaving Dean gasping and clinging to Castiel.

It’s even better than the dessert.


	14. Chapter 14

“Dean.”

“Dean.”

“ _Dean_.”

Dean rolls over, blinking slowly at Castiel. “Wha... wha?”

“Dean, I’m hungry.”

“Huh? So… ugh, it’s early, Cas. Go get something to eat if you’re hungry.”

Castiel glares. “It’s my _first time here,_ Dean. I can’t just go digging around in your fridge.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Dean says with a groan, “but only because you did all the work in the shower last night.” Dean had mostly sort of leaned against the shower wall, orgasm-drunk and sleepy while Castiel had washed all the sweat, lube, and come from their bodies.

He sits up, frowning when he realizes that Castiel is wearing the ugly lime green t-shirt. The one Dean borrowed ages ago and never returned. The one that’s been under Dean’s pillow since he brought it home. How embarrassing.

Castiel grins when he sees Dean eyeballing the shirt. “Thought I’d get it smelling like me again.”

“Just kill me,” Dean sighs.

Castiel kisses Dean’s temple. “If it makes you feel any better, some nights I sleep in that pair of panties you left in my apartment.”

Dean can feel all the blood in his body making a mad dash for his dick. “Uh, _yeah_ that makes me feel better.”

“Wonderful! Now feed me.”

Dean whines but drags himself out of his tiny bed and pulls on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Castiel snatches another pair of sweats out of the drawer to pull over his boxer-briefs, and they head downstairs, Castiel humming happily and Dean staring at the way his sweatpants hang low on Castiel’s hips. When they reach the kitchen, Sam and Jess are already at the table, eating cereal. Well, _Sam_ is eating his cereal and grinning. Jess is staring at her bowl and blushing. Sam spots them and waves cheerfully, while Jess attempts to hide behind her hair. Weird.

“You seem perky,” Dean says, looking through the fridge. “Cas, if you make breakfast burritos I’ll be your best friend!”

Sam immediately shoves his bowl of cereal to the side and activates his puppy eyes, directing them at Castiel. “Yes, please!”

Castiel sighs and rolls his eyes. “I suppose.”

Sam lets out a whoop, dumping the rest of his cereal into Jess’ bowl. Castiel starts pulling ingredients out of the fridge, while Dean looks for their biggest pan, finally spotting it in the sink.

“Whoops,” Dean says, “never did finish the dishes.”

Sam starts laughing, and Dean turns to see Jess burying her face in her hands. What the hell?

“You okay, Jess?” Dean asks, squirting dish soap into the pan. There’s nothing in it, but he can’t remember if it got cleaned or not.

“Yeah, _Jess._ Are you okay?” Sam says with a snort.

“I made stuffed mushrooms last night,” Jess says softly. “Only they were done early, so I covered them in foil and put them in the oven, so they’d get warmed up while I did the garlic bread. Except I forgot to take them out after I was done with the oven, I forgot about them completely until we were going to sleep.” Dean can hear Sam snickering. “So I came down here to move them into the fridge, and you guys were at the sink… and… and you were…”

Dean winces at the crunch as a startled Castiel drops two eggs onto the floor.

“I am _so_ sorry,” Castiel says, voice cracking oddly. “I have better manners than that, I promise.” Castiel shoots a glare at Sam, who is laughing hysterically, pounding on the table.

Dean wants to die. He grabs some spray cleaner from under the sink to deal with the eggs.

Sam stops laughing long enough to actually speak. “I’m not laughing at you, Castiel! I swear! It’s just… Jess was acting like I was _such_ a baby last night, and now she can’t even look at you guys!” Sam laughs even harder, not stopping when Jess flings a spoonful of cereal and milk at him.

Breakfast is delicious, but awkward. While Jess seems to be back to normal by the time the food is ready, Castiel continues to look mortified the entire time.

After they eat, Sam and Jess head upstairs to get ready for… something. Dean wasn’t listening. Probably a quilt show or something really boring like that. Dean and Castiel are cuddling on the couch, Castiel’s head in Dean’s lap while Dean strokes his fingers through soft locks of hair. They’re watching an airing of Titanic on TNT, because Castiel has the remote. Dean is in the middle of trying to coax him into changing the channel when he hears the sound of keys at the front door. That doesn’t make any sense. Sam and Jess haven’t left for their… art thing, and the only other people with keys to the house are Dean and… shit.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean says.

Castiel looks up at him in concern. “Dean?”

The door swings open and Dean’s mother walks in. Mary takes one look at Dean and Castiel and closes the door, locking it and turning around with wide eyes.

“We should have called,” she says. Oh Christ. She said “we”, which means Dean’s _father_ is probably out front looking the Impala over and checking it for scratches.

“Hey Mom,” Dean says slowly.

“Oh,” Castiel says, sitting up abruptly. “Oh dear.”

Dean can hear his father try to open the door, then curse when he realizes it’s locked. He starts knocking.

Mary glances at the door and sighs. “I wasn’t expecting…”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says, deflated.

The doorbell rings, and Castiel stands. “I should go.”

Dean grabs Castiel’s wrist as he starts to move away. “No, don’t,” he says, standing.

“Is someone going to answer that?” Sam yells, coming down the stairs. He spots Mary and his face falls slightly. “Uh oh.”

“Let him in, Mom.” Dean says, lacing his fingers with Castiel’s. He can do this. Mary nods and opens the door for John, who walks in looking annoyed and bewildered.

“Well what in the world did you lock me out for?” John looks over at Dean, about to say more, when he takes in Dean and Castiel’s joined hands.

“Mom, Dad,” Dean starts, and it feels like the room is holding its breath. “This is Castiel Novak. My boyfriend.”

Dean looks at Castiel while an uncomfortable silence settles on the room. He looks petrified, Dean should have let him leave. Most of Castiel’s family won’t talk to him for this exact reason, he shouldn’t have to go through it all again.

“Boyfriend,” John repeats.

With that one word, all of Dean’s anger and fear toward his father starts bubbling back to the surface. Fear of disappointment, punishment, _something_. It’s all so stupid. Dean barely likes his father, and it’s not like John can get Castiel carted off to Boston or kick Dean out of his home.

 _Fuck it._ Dean squares his shoulders and glares. “Yes. Boyfriend. Kissing, snuggling, going on dates. Okay well we haven’t actually gone on a real date yet, but you get it. Boyfriend.”

There’s about a million different expressions flitting across John’s face, coalescing into one hard, unhappy glare. “So you’re just suddenly into men.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it sudden, _Sir._ ”

Sam and Mary don’t know about Victor, but Dean’s about ready to tell them just so he can see his father squirm. John gets a look on his face that seems to be a cross between disgust and guilt, scrubbing a hand through his hair in agitation.

“Let’s not bring up that ugliness, Dean.”

“What?” Sam asks, fully in the room now. “What ugliness?”

Dean shakes his head at Sam. “Why are you here?”

“It’s my fault,” Mary says, “I woke up and got it in my head that I wanted to take everyone out for brunch... and I had the key still.” Mary has a key to the house because when Sam and Jess got the place, she pretty much hired herself as their decorator, popping by and making changes when no one was home. It never seemed like a big deal that she still had the key. Until today, of course.

Dean looks over at his father and realizes that he’s glaring at a fairly alarmed Castiel, which… fuck no. “ _Hey._ Quit glaring at him like this is somehow his fault.”

“This is wrong and you know it,” John says.

“The fuck I do!” Fuck it, Dean’s going to spill it. “I know you think you nipped this all in the bud back with Vic, but all you did was make me lose respect for you. You can’t threaten away someone’s sexuality, _Sir,_ you can only make them afraid to be honest about who they are. That’s all you did, you made me dishonest.”

The room is dead silent for a moment, and Dean knows he is visibly shaking.

“Vic? _Victor_?” Sam blurts out, baffled. “Is that why he got shipped off to Boston? Because of Dad?”

“Ask _him_ ,” Dean says, glaring.

“I did what I had to, and my _friend_ had a right to know his kid was a damn queer.”

“So what then, Dean and Vic were dating or something, and you found out and _told on_ Vic and then _threatened_ Dean?” Sam hisses.

“It wasn’t that kind of threat,” John says.

“Yeah, it was a ‘be straight or be homeless’ kind of threat,” Dean fires back.

“ _Are you kidding me_?!” The room falls silent again at the sound of Mary yelling. The last time Dean heard his mom yell like that had been during that mess with the prom petition. He has a feeling it’s still a sore spot.

“Now look, Mary,” John says.

“Don’t you ‘look, Mary’ me, John Henry Winchester. I’m taking my boys out for brunch, and you’re getting your sorry ass in the truck and going home, because I don’t even want to look at you right now.”

Nobody dares mention that they all just ate an hour ago.

John and Mary glare daggers at each other, and then John is slamming his way out the door, barking about “queers” and “doing what’s right”. Mary closes her eyes, quietly counting to ten. At ten, her eyes pop back open, and she steps over to Castiel, taking his hand.

“What an appalling way for us to meet,” she says earnestly, “I’m so sorry.” She pats his hand gently until he looks up at her. She smiles warmly, patting his hand one more time before letting him go. “Alright, boys. Brunch! Go get changed, and fetch Jess! Last one down gets the honor of driving me home after!”

Dean grins at his mom then turns and pulls Castiel toward the stairs, ignoring Sam’s betrayed sounding “I can’t _believe_ you never told me about you and Victor, Dean.”

 

***

 

They don’t talk about the scene downstairs while they’re changing. Instead, Dean digs out a pair of jeans for Castiel to wear, and a belt, since Dean is a size or two larger than him, while Castiel picks through Dean’s shirts for one to wear to brunch. Dean changes into a green plaid shirt, rolling up the sleeves and buttoning all but the top two buttons. He turns around just as Castiel turns from the closet, and discovers that Castiel is wearing the exact same shirt in blue, buttoned the same way. They start laughing at the same time, and Dean unbuttons his shirt.

“They were buy one get one free. There’s a red one and a brown one in the hamper,” Dean says.

“Why stop at four?”

“I didn’t. The orange one got a huge tomato sauce stain and I threw it out because I hadn’t discovered the magic of OxiClean yet… and the turquoise one got lost on a camping trip last year.”

Castiel looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

Dean pulls on a tan colored henley. “It’s not like plaid shirts are all I own!”

“It’s more fun to entertain the mental image of you opening a closet full of plaid shirts and trying to decide which one suits your mood that day.”

“Well I have my plaid shirts, and _you_ have your endless supply of novelty t-shirts.”

“I suppose we both just like what we like.”

Dean crowds Castiel up against the door. “Well I like you in this shirt.”

Castiel shoves Dean away, glaring. “Your brother and your sister-in-law already encountered us during intimate moments, I’m _not_ risking a trifecta.”

Dean pouts. “After that terrible scene downstairs, don’t you want to cheer me up?”

Castiel’s gaze softens. He takes Dean’s face in his hands, gently pressing their lips together. “No, I don’t.”

Dean feels his heart swell with love at that moment, sudden and debilitating, and _much too soon_. Love. Holy fucking hell, is he in love?

Castiel’s eyes grow concerned. “Dean?”

Dean stares at Castiel, mouth hanging open. How the fuck did this happen? Is it a rebound thing? It might be a rebound thing. Shit. Dean should keep it to himself.

“Dean, are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

Castiel’s hands are still on Dean’s face, and his thumbs stroke the shells of Dean’s ears. “Where did you go just now?”

Dean smiles and pecks Castiel on the lips. “Doesn’t matter. I’m back now.”

When they get downstairs, Jess is sitting on the couch, looking uncomfortable. “Your dad is still here. Your mom and Sam are out there yelling at him. I thought I’d wait in here.”

Dean sighs. “Wait here, Cas.”

Dean heads outside to take in the scene. His father is in his truck, parked along the sidewalk, engine running. He’s glaring something fierce at Mary. Dean can’t see her face from where he is, but he has a feeling she’s giving him a look that could freeze molten lava. Sam is crouched on the sidewalk by the bumper of Castiel’s car, which has an ugly dent that Dean’s pretty sure is new, given that John’s truck is right behind it with a busted headlight.

“Seriously?!” Dean yells. “You hit his _car_?!”

“It was an accident,” John says emphatically but also quite unconvincingly.

“Like hell it was!” Mary shouts.

“We were standing right here you damn liar,” Sam adds.

John scowls at Sam and looks at Dean. “Do you want my insurance information or what?”

“So my boyfriend’s rates can go up?” Dean snaps. “Like fuck. I’m fixing it, and _you’re_ sending me a damn check for labor. Now go piss off.”

“You need to watch how you speak to me, boy. I’m your _father,_ you’d better show some respect.”

“Respect is _earned,_ you stubborn ass, now get the fuck out of here before I start getting unpleasant,” Mary says. Dean stares at the back of his mother’s head, shocked. Dean is thirty years old and this is the first time he’s ever heard his mother say the word “fuck”.

John starts to back his truck away from Castiel’s car. “Fine!”

“And you better not be in _my_ damn house when I get home. You can be Bobby’s problem tonight for all I care.”

John’s face falls. “Mary…”

“Go!” Mary yells.

John glares again and leaves, tires screeching as his truck peels off down the street. Dean watches him go, realizing that several of Sam’s neighbors are on their porches watching. Mary turns to Dean and she looks so distressed. Dean rushes over, hugging her tight.

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay.”

Mary sighs, pulling back and patting Dean’s cheek sadly. “It’s not okay, honey. I’m so sorry for what he put on you, I didn’t know. If I’d known, I would have kicked his ass six ways to Sunday. I would have had his ass in a sling if he _dared_ to try and throw my boy out.”

Dean tries not to cry at that. On some level he’d known that back then, that even if his father had tried to kick him out his mother never would have stood for it. But Dean was young, and scared, and Victor was gone anyway. It seemed easier to repress it the best he could and act like it never happened. Why screw with the fabric of his family when there were still girls he could date?

“It’s not your fault,” Dean says.

Mary gives him a sad smile. “Surprisingly, that doesn’t make it easier.” She sighs. “Okay. I’m _starving,_ I’m gonna go freshen up, and you should probably let Castiel know about his car.”

The three of them go back inside. Castiel and Jess are watching Titanic, which is still playing on the TV. Mary pauses to look at the TV, making a wounded little sound as Kate Winslet throws herself from the lifeboat back onto the sinking ship.

“Mom,” Dean says.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Mary says, heading for the bathroom.

“Cas, can I talk to you outside?”

Castiel looks from the TV over to Dean. “But Rose…”

“Dude.”

Castiel huffs, standing as Sam takes his spot on the couch. Dean hears Sam mutter “I love this part” to Jess and he has to hold himself back from wailing in agony.

Once they’re outside, Castiel looks around before taking Dean’s hand. Probably checking for angry fathers. Dean laces their fingers together.

“Is everything alright?” Castiel asks.

“Sort of. No one’s _dead_ anyway. But my mom kind of threw my dad out, and my dad dented your car.”

“Excuse me?”

Dean gestures toward Castiel’s car, and Castiel grimaces. “I wasn’t out here when it happened, but I get the sense it was on purpose. Which… huh that’s actually kind of a hate crime. Anyway I told him to fuck off with sending this to insurance. I can fix this today and maybe tomorrow without your monthly rate getting all blown up.” Dean knows he’s talking kind of fast, but he’s downright ashamed of his father, and he’s a little scared that everything happening will prove to be a deal breaker for Castiel.

But all Castiel says is, “Do I get to watch you work on the car?”

Dean smiles, relieved. “Of course.”

 

***

 

The plan is for Dean and Castiel to go to brunch, then go to Castiel’s to feed Ezekiel, then to the garage to work on Castiel’s car. They head to the restaurant in Castiel’s poor, battered car while Sam, Jess, and Mary take Sam’s car. They settle on a local pancake restaurant for brunch, and by the time they get there Dean is ready for another meal. Yelling at his father works up an appetite, apparently.

The conversation is fairly superficial at first, Sam and Jess talk about the antique furniture exhibit that’s running all day today that they’re for some reason excited about. Dean doesn’t understand how people like them exist.

After a while, he notices Castiel is eyeballing Dean’s half eaten Belgian waffles. He groans, pushing his plate over and nudging Castiel in the ribs with his elbow. “If you wanted waffles, you shouldn’t have ordered a fruit salad, _grandma_.”

Castiel is too busy helping himself to Dean’s plate to reply. Dean looks up and realizes Mary is watching them with a sappy smile on her face. Oh, hell.

“So,” Mary says, “how long have you two been together?”

“Not long,” Dean says. “I guess we’ve known each other a couple of months though.”

“How did you meet?”

Dean almost chokes on his glass of apple juice. How does he answer that? _Well, we got shitfaced at a gay bar, fucked, then I tracked him down after I found out I had chlamydia_. That’d be romantic. Dean looks over at Sam and Jess, trying to remember how much of this story they know.

“Uh, at a bar,” Dean finally says.

“No need to look so _ashamed,_ Dean,” Mary says. “Plenty of people meet that way. They go out for drinks, see someone that catches their eye, exchange numbers, and then boom! Relationship!”

“Um...yeah,” Dean says, hesitating _far_ too long. His mother picks up on it immediately.

“Is there more to the story, then?”

“Nah, not really…”

“Dean,” Mary says. Dean says nothing. Mary turns her head to Castiel. “Castiel?”

Before Dean even knows what’s happening, Castiel is _talking._ “It was a one night stand. We got drunk and had a sexual encounter, then I snuck out in the morning before he woke up. Then Dean found out his unfaithful ex-girlfriend had given him chlamydia, so he tracked me down through the internet to warn me because we hadn’t used a condom during our time together. The only one we had broke and we both thought we were clean.”

Jesus _fucking_ Christ. Jess spills coffee down the front of her shirt and shrieks, making a dash for the bathroom. Dean glares, kicking a table leg in frustration.

“Ow, what the hell was that for?” Sam whines.

Dean buries his face in his hands. “I thought you were a table leg.”

Castiel looks over at Dean. “I’m not going to lie to your _mother,_ Dean.”

“Cas, there is a huge difference between telling the truth, and telling _everything_.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so nervous.”

Dean looks at his mother, expecting a horrified grimace. But she just looks sad.

“Lisa cheated on you? I’m so sorry, honey.”

“It was worth it.”

Castiel blushes, staring intently at the few bits of waffle remaining on Dean’s plate.

Dean means it, too. Getting cheated on, having to get tested for STDs, all the embarrassment and drama of the past day or so. It was all worth it, and Dean has no regrets.

 

***

 

Okay, maybe he regrets Jess seeing him fuck Castiel in her kitchen.

 

***

 

Castiel moans in dismay when he gets home and steps in a pile of kitten vomit. Ezekiel meows excitedly when she sees Castiel, hopping down from the cat structure. Castiel grabs some paper towels, pausing when he sees Ezekiel’s food dish.

“Well I guess I know why she threw up,” he says, “I left her way more food than usual, just in case. She ate it all.”

Dean lets out a laugh. “That’s how my goldfish died when I was a kid.”

After Castiel cleans up the mess and tends to the litterbox, he heads to his dresser and pulls out a plain light grey t-shirt. “I’ve decided that I want you to wear this when you’re working on my car today.”

Dean raises an eyebrow as he takes the shirt out of Castiel’s hands. “This some kind of mechanic fantasy?”

A small smirk appears on Castiel’s face. Holy shit. It _is_ some kind of mechanic fantasy. Dean immediately pulls off his henley and puts the t-shirt on. He’s not in love with the way it hugs certain areas of his torso, but Castiel seems to like it. He wonders if Castiel will be horrified or turned on when the shirt ends up covered in dark grease stains and sweat. He can’t wait to find out.

 

***

 

The dent is surprisingly easy to get out, so Dean spends Saturday tuning up Castiel’s entire car. They spend a lot of time talking, and at one point Castiel takes his phone out to snap photos of Dean in his now oil-stained t-shirt. Dean even poses a little, bending over in an exaggerated manner, wiggling his hips, tossing flirty grins over his shoulder for the photos. No one else is in the garage this weekend, otherwise Dean wouldn’t be going along with things with quite so much enthusiasm. Once the sexual tension ramps up too high, they lock themselves in Bobby’s office, stroking each other to completion while praying Bobby doesn’t suddenly cancel his fishing trip and show up to do some weekend work.

When Dean finishes up on Sunday, he prints out a bill to send his father, charging him for the bumper repair, tire rotation, oil change, buffing out some old scratches, cleaning the interior, and installing an iPod jack. Just to be even more of an asshole he pads the labor, too.

Maybe they’ll use the money to buy an even bigger cat tree for Ezekiel.

 


	15. Chapter 15

About a week later, Dean gets a check in the mail. He frowns when he sees the check is from his mother’s account, and immediately grabs his phone to call her.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Mom, I was trying to gouge _Dad_ for money, not you.”

Mary chuckles. “Oh, you are. I transfered the money from his account to mine because I was worried you might tear up the check if it was from him! Although I suppose now that I think about it, that might have been a silly concern, you did send the bill after all.”

Dean’s not sure if he would have torn up the check or not. “Was he mad?”

“Oh yes, very.”

“Awesome.”

“So,” Mary says, “since I have you on the phone… I have some news.”

“News, huh? You pregnant?”

“Bite your tongue, these ovaries are closed for business! No, uh… I talked to your father, told him he could come back home if he enrolled in therapy.”

If Dean had been drinking anything, this would have been the moment he spat it out all over himself in surprise. “And he _agreed_?”

“He doesn’t want to lose his family, honey.”

“What would he even be getting therapy for?”

“His homophobia, of course.”

“People can go to therapy for that?”

“Well it’s a phobia, isn’t it?”

Huh. “Well I hope his shrink decides to go with exposure therapy and sends him to a gay bar.”

“Honestly? Me too. Now go cash your check and take that nice young man of yours out to a fancy dinner.”

 

***

 

SENT - 06/28/14 - 7:19pm - My mom told me she’s sending my father to therapy for homophobia.

RECEIVED - 06/28/14 - 7:34pm - And he’s agreed to go?

SENT - 06/28/14 - 7:40pm - Yes. How fucking wild is that?

RECEIVED - 06/28/14 - 7:45pm - I think it’s pretty remarkable.

RECEIVED - 06/28/14 - 7:46pm - I have a large family, none of them would go to therapy in order to make amends with me.

RECEIVED - 06/28/14 - 7:48pm - Aside from Gabriel, but he’s not homophobic.

SENT - 06/28/14 - 7:59pm - Sometimes I feel like I don’t know a whole lot about your life.

RECEIVED - 06/28/14 - 8:13pm - I’m open to remedying that. Would you like to come over?

SENT - 06/28/14 - 8:16pm - Did Sam cry at the end of The Notebook?

RECEIVED - 06/28/14 - 8:17pm - ???

SENT - 06/28/14 - 8:19pm - That means yes.

 

***

 

Dean holds up his check when Castiel opens the door, grinning proudly.

Castiel tuts. “Are you actually going to keep that money?”

Dean scoops up Ezekiel as he comes inside, kissing her on the head. “Uh. Yeah?”

“Even though the car was repaired with very little expense to either of us?”

“Yep! Hey, don’t look at me like that. They know that bill was bogus and paid anyway. This check is reparations for ruining my Saturday morning and for making my not-boyfriend move away.”

“Well when you put it _that_ way… what are you going to spend it on?”

“ _We,_ Cas. What are _we_ going to spend it on.”

Castiel smiles. “Alright, we.”

“I have no idea.”

“More plaid shirts, maybe?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Too practical.”

“You want to spend it on something impractical?”

“It’s no fun if it gets spent on groceries and bills.”

“Well, let’s worry about it later. In the mean time, you came over for a reason, did you not?”

For a moment Dean thinks Castiel means sex. He’s about to make a lewd comment when he remembers he really _did_ come over for a reason: getting to know his boyfriend a little better. He puts Ezekiel down and takes off his jacket, then starts on his boots.

“Wait, I want to be all snuggled in bed while we talk,” Dean says. Castiel grins, shuffling over to his bed and pulling the covers back. Once they’re snuggled together, Dean kisses Castiel’s temple. “So. Tell me about your family.”

“Well,” Castiel says, taking in a deep breath, “I have a very large, very unpleasant family. My parents are both frigid and severe people, and the fact that they conceived so many children the natural way continues to baffle me. I have seven brothers and sisters.”

“Jesus!”

“Michael is the oldest, then Lucifer--”

“Pardon? _Lucifer_?”

“Then Rachel, then Gabriel, then Ion, then me, then Anna, and Samandriel is the youngest.”

“Damn, your parents really went at it like bunnies.”

“I will sic my kitten on you,” Castiel warns.

“So, your family is religious?”

Castiel chews his bottom lip, and Dean can tell he’s searching for the right words. “They are religious in a sort of… corporate way. Businesslike. Political. They have always been more focused on the restrictive aspects of religion, rather than on things like faith and love. They wanted… they _expected_ their children to be obedient little clones of themselves. I had a very dull and joyless childhood. I was what they wanted, however, more than the others. I got better grades in school, I was better behaved, took orders well, and I got on well with the more prominent members of our church. Michael had been the favorite for a long time, but as I grew older, they doted on me instead. Well, their _version_ of doting. Affection was a reward for obedience, and it _barely_ passed for affection. We all wanted their approval, and when it was Michael at the top, we’d all just accepted it. It made sense. He was the oldest, the first born, of course he should be the favored son. But when I became the star child, everyone resented me. Except for Gabriel, he was already rebelling a little.”

Dean snorts. “I thought Lucifer was supposed to be the rebellious one.”

“In the Bible, perhaps. But my brother, not so much. He has many faults, and he’s probably the _meanest_ of my siblings, but he fell in line with the rest of us. We ate what we were told, wore what we were told, went to college where we were told, the older ones even got jobs and purchased _homes_ where they were told.”

“Jesus.”

“Gabriel left the family when he was nineteen and I was sixteen, and after that my parents had a perfect collection of obedient marble statue children to work in my father’s company and sit in the front pew of our church. It continued that way for years, me the favorite son, with all my brothers and sisters resenting me, Gabriel gone. I suppressed any wants and dreams I had to the point where I was unaware of them. I wasn’t exactly miserable, mind you. I barely knew what happiness _was_ , just the occasional glow of content pride when I’d pleased my parents. And I would have continued on that way--”

“But then you realized you were gay?”

Castiel smiles. “But then I realized I was gay. I became interested in a boy when I was still living at home, and one day Ion caught us seconds into my very first kiss.”

“Seems familiar.”

“No one’s fingers were inside me.”

“Way too many people have caught me having sex,” Dean sighs.

“I agree.”

“Anyway. So, Ion caught you kissing.”

“As I mentioned before, there was a lot of resentment and jealousy toward me from my other siblings, and when Ion saw me with Uriel--”

“ _Uriel_?”

“When Ion saw me with _Uriel_ , he immediately rushed away to call my father. Uriel left at my urging, and my parents were home quite quickly, with all my older siblings. Within an hour, my entire immediate family, save Gabriel of course, were at the house, and they were all _disgusted_ with me. There was so much disdain on all their faces. Ah, and triumph. There was a great deal of that too. The favorite son had made a grave error and would never be at the top again, Ion was practically giddy over it. My mother however, was hysterical. I’d never seen her show that much emotion. She ranted about how this never would have happened if I’d tried harder, and blamed my father’s strict policy against dating without permission for my ‘confusion’, and didn’t I want to to get into Heaven when I died? She said that God loved me, and needed me to make the right choices or he would cast me into Hell. That was the most I’d seen her talk about God in years. My parents said they would have to cast me out if I ever did anything like this again, and that it would take a long time for them to learn to trust me again.”

An odd look passes over Castiel’s face. Something wistful and troubled.

“Nearly twenty years of perfect, unquestioning obedience, and this should have been simple. Just another order for me to follow. I wasn’t even terribly fond of Uriel, he was merely someone I spent time with at the church because he was Pastor Raphael’s son, I wouldn’t be hurt if I couldn’t see him anymore. I could pretend it never happened like my mother was begging and my father was ordering me to.”

Castiel sighs.

“I know you’re not religious. Neither am I, not compared to how I was in my youth. But in that moment, a feeling came over me that some part of me will always think of as divine intervention. Suddenly I knew… they were wrong. As long as my sexual inclinations weren’t harmful to others, God didn’t care who I was with. God wanted me to be happy, and as long as I lived under that roof, under their thumb, I knew I never would be. So I excused myself from the study, filled a suitcase with my valuables and my most durable clothing, and I left.”

“Fuck.”

“After I left I realized that I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t have any close friends, certainly none that would take me in when they learned _why_ I was suddenly homeless. It wasn’t too late in the day at that point, so I walked to the library and got on a computer and e-mailed Gabriel. I didn’t even know if he still used the account I was contacting, it had been a few years since we’d had contact, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was afraid he wouldn’t get the e-mail, or wouldn’t want anything to do with me after so long, but I was also afraid of caving and going back to my family simply to avoid homelessness. I laid it all out in that e-mail, that I was at the library and frightened, that I had chosen to leave instead of hide my sexuality like the family had demanded, that I needed advice, or help, or anything, because I’d never been on my own and I was already in over my head.”

Dean kisses the top of Castiel’s head. This scenario is a big part of what he used to envision after his father’s threat. Dean had caved, but Castiel… Castiel had been so brave.

“I waited over an hour, refreshing my e-mail account every five minutes hoping for a response. But then it was closing time for the library, and I had to leave, with only my suitcase and a list of area shelters I’d printed out. I barely even had any money. I was so scared, Dean. I could have risen far in my community, but outside of it, without my parents’ money and influence, I had nothing. I walked outside, wondering if I should go to one of the shelters on the list or just go home.”

Castiel smiles.

“But then there Gabriel was, parked right outside and leaning against his car, grinning ear to ear. He hugged me and told me how proud he was, and he was so sincere. It meant more to me than years of my parents praising my obedience.”

Fuck. Dean is not going to cry. He’s _not,_ damn it.

“When we were kids we were barely acquaintances, and now we’re _brothers_. I wish I could have had this with the rest of my siblings, but I can’t say that I miss them, either. We just weren’t close.”

Castiel takes a deep, shuddering breath, and Dean peppers more kisses into his hair.

“So anyway, that’s the story of my family and I.”

“Well shit,” Dean says, “guess we both got yanked out of the closet when we were young. Although I kind of stuffed myself back in. You’re so much braver than I am, Cas.”

“You had more to lose than I did, Dean.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I would have been too scared no matter what.”

“Well that was then. Things are different now. Your family knows, and even though it was messy and humiliating at parts, you’re still intact. You faced your father, and you were so brave.”

“I guess…”

There’s a moment where the room is completely silent, then Castiel lets out a long, exhausted yawn. “Telling that story really wore me out. What would you say to an early night?”

Dean can’t think of anything he’d rather do more than go to sleep tangled in Castiel’s arms. It’s pretty warm and the two of them strip down to their boxers before crawling into bed.

Castiel kisses Dean on the cheek. “I’m glad you came over.”

“I’m glad I got to learn more about you. You’ve come a long way from Robo Christian Castiel.”

“Oh yes, Young Castiel wouldn’t even recognize the man I am now.”

“I think Young Dean would congratulate me on bagging a hot pastry chef.”

They relax, drifting closer and closer to sleep. Dean’s almost out completely when Castiel speaks. “I know what we should do with the money, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“We’ve yet to go on a date. We should do that. We should go on many dates.”

“All bankrolled by my homophobic father.”

“Yes.”

Dean can’t believe he was worried this was a rebound. He’s definitely in love.


	16. Chapter 16

Dean cashes the check the next day, and receives sixty twenty dollar bills. When he’s looking for something to stuff the bills into, Jess gives him a large, cracked container that she used to use for sun tea, and Dean puts the jar full of cash on top of the fridge. On Monday when he comes home, there’s a label taped on the jar. It reads “Dean & Castiel’s Date Money” in beautiful lettering, which means Sam made it; he’s the one that took a calligraphy class two years ago. There’s also a fifty dollar bill inside that wasn’t there before, and Dean’s incredibly grateful that no one is in the room to see his eyes water.

 

***

 

SENT - 06/29/14 - 6:13pm - I made reservations at La Frenchie Frenchington. Date #1 starts tomorrow!

RECEIVED - 06/29/14 - 6:18pm - La Frenchie Frenchington? Is this an imaginary restaurant?

SENT - 06/29/14 - 6:23pm - Ok fine Jess made the reservation, and I already forgot what the place is called.

SENT - 06/29/14 - 6:25pm - I’m not even sure if the restaurant is French, actually. I’ll look later.

RECEIVED - 06/29/14 - 6:34pm - So we’re going big for the first date?

SENT - 06/29/14 - 6:39pm - We sure are. Jess says we have to wear a jacket and tie, and that I should bring like $250 from the jar.

RECEIVED - 06/29/14 - 6:43pm - Wow. The last date I went on was Crowley taking me to Denny’s.

SENT - 06/29/14 - 6:48pm - LOL honestly Cas that’s pretty close to a traditional Dean Date.

RECEIVED - 06/29/14 - 6:51pm - With your looks I think you could take a date to 7-11 and still end up in bed.

SENT - 06/29/14 - 6:59pm - I actually have. I mean it was a decade ago and it was a Circle K store, but still.

RECEIVED - 06/29/14 - 7:03pm - Wow.

SENT - 06/29/14 - 7:04pm - I’m damn smooth, what can I say?

 

***

 

Dean has exactly one suit, a dark blue number he got for Sam’s wedding. Thank God it was off the rack because if it had been tailored it probably wouldn’t fit Dean all that well right now. He’s not exactly the epitome of class in the suit, but he knows he looks good, and at least it’s not flannel. He pairs it with the same indigo tie and white shirt he used for Sam’s wedding, and spends over an hour worrying he doesn’t look classy enough. He shouldn’t have left work early, he’d have less time to stand around berating himself for not having nicer clothes.

He finally heads to Castiel’s place at seven, and shudders with sudden arousal at the sight of him. “You went shopping again, didn’t you?”

“Gabriel said it was his treat.”

Unlike Dean’s suit, Castiel’s fits like a glove, a dark three piece number with a grey shirt and a raspberry red tie.

“Oh I know that look,” Castiel says, “keep it in your pants, Winchester.” Dean pouts and scowls simultaneously. “You can defile my suit later, Dean.”

Dean pants and yips like a happy puppy, startling a laugh out of Castiel.

“Alright,” Dean says, “let’s go be fancy and shit.”

 

***

 

Dean’s a bit disappointed in his meal. Sure, it tastes good, but not any better than what Sam or Jess or Castiel have made, and the portions are so _small_ for so much money. The atmosphere of La Frenchie Frenchington (it’s actually an Italian restaurant, but Dean forgot the name of it as soon as they took his menu away) is soothing and romantic though, and Castiel looks amazing. So Dean munches on his tiny portion of pasta carbonara while drinking in the sight of Castiel, who is frowning lightly at his plate.

“I think we should have just gone to Olive Garden,” Castiel says.

“I love you.”

Castiel barely stops his wineglass from falling over as he stares at Dean in shock. Fuck, Dean said that out loud, didn’t he.

“Dean?”

“Shit.”

Dean’s panic is cut short when Castiel snags the arm of a passing server, barely taking his eyes off of Dean. “My apologies, an urgent matter has come up and we’ll be needing the check right away.”

 

***

 

They don’t even make it back to Castiel’s place, Dean pulls into the bottom level of a mostly empty parking garage, dragging Castiel and some supplies from the glove compartment into the back seat. They come barely twenty minutes later, Dean buried deep inside Castiel, and Castiel shouting at the ceiling that he loves Dean too.

It’s the best first date Dean’s ever been on.

 

***

 

SENT - 07/02/14 - 9:35pm - Take Friday off. BBQ at my place! You can bring Gabe.

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 9:38pm - A 4th of July party? How wholesome.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 9:43pm - Can you make it? Sorry this is short notice. Forgot all about it until about 10 minutes ago.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 9:45pm - Sam and Jess will be there. And my mom. NOT my dad.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 9:47pm - And some people from work. And some family friends.

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 9:52pm - You want me to come to a party and with your friends in attendance?

SENT - 07/02/14 - 9:55pm - yeah?

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 9:59pm - As your boyfriend?

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:03pm - YEAH?

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:05pm - Do any of them know about me?

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:08pm - No. This is going to be a real time saver.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:13pm - I could send out a mass e-mail first.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:15pm - Cas?

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:17pm - I thought you’d see this as a good thing!

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:21pm - I do! I’m sorry, I was calling Gabriel to tell him about our invitation.

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:23pm - And finding out if my staff could cover Friday or if I’d have to close for the day.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:24pm - Oh.

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:24pm - Sorry for making you panic.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:26pm - Who said anything about panicking? I’m cool.

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:27pm - Uh huh.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:30pm - Shut up I don’t love you anymore.

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:33pm - Poor baby, let me make it up to you.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:38pm - By making dessert for my BBQ I hope.

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:42pm - I was thinking more about you coming over here and fucking me, but I can do dessert.

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:44pm - Should I make a cake?

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:46pm - No no I want to do your thing.

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:48pm - Actually I think pie would be better.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:50pm - Cas no I want sex

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:52pm - I make great doughnuts.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 10:52pm - CAS

RECEIVED - 07/02/14 - 10:59pm - It’s actually very hard to text you and finger myself open at the same time.

SENT - 07/02/14 - 11:01pm - I’M PUTTING SHOES ON.

 

***

 

The guest list for this year’s barbecue is a lot different from last year’s. Whereas last year had been Sam, Jess, Dean, and Lisa, this year will be Sam, Jess, Dean, Castiel, Mary, Gabriel, Benny, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash, Sam’s friends Andy, Jake, and Ava, plus some teacher that Jess gave a pity invite to. With a guest list this big, it’s pretty impressive that Dean managed to completely forget about it up until Jess mentioned getting a shopping list together for the big day.

Dean and Castiel lay in Castiel’s bed while Dean rattles off all the names, sweat and other fluids cooling on their bodies, tied off condom on the floor.

“That’s quite a lot of people,” Castiel murmurs.

“Yeah. Sammy’s idea. He thought of it after the big breakup, when I was kind of shunning social interaction.”

“So this has been in the works for months?”

“Well I mean the idea came up that long ago, but it’s not like we were planning it all this time. Besides, ‘have people over to eat food’ doesn’t take much planning.”

“Well you have to plan out the food, and when you’ll be cooking,” Castiel says sleepily.

“You wanna help with that? Maybe you could come stay over the night before, tomorrow night I guess... you could help with the stuff that needs getting done ahead of time?”

Castiel snuggles against Dean, humming happily. “I think I’d like that.”

Dean’s dozing off a little. “Maybe you could stay all weekend?”

“I could, but I do have a cat… perhaps I could stop at home to feed her...”

“Bring her. S’ a big house.”

Castiel pauses, pulling back and giving Dean a long look. “You realize you’re inviting me to spend nearly four _days_ with you, right?”

“Dude,” Dean says, pulling Castiel closer, “I’m tired, not drunk. I know what I said. I think it’d be cool.”

“So, I’d show up with my cat and stay all weekend and your brother wouldn’t care.”

“Even if he did, he’s real polite, he’d never say anything,” Dean jokes. He pecks Castiel on the lips. “Come on, come hang out in my tiny room for the weekend.”

Castiel smiles. “I’d love to.”

“Fuck yeah, slumber party!” Dean says, pumping a fist.

“I’ll bring my best pajamas.”


	17. Chapter 17

As expected, Sam and Jess have no problem with Dean bringing over Castiel and Ezekiel for the weekend. In fact, Sam gives him two big cheesy thumbs up and Jess makes a little “aww” sound before Dean proclaims them both jerks and leaves.

Dean’s been going back and forth between excited and terrified since he got the reminder about the barbecue. He hasn’t admitted this to Castiel, but a big part of why he invited him to stay all weekend is for a safety net. Knowing Castiel will be here for the rest of the weekend if things go badly. He can’t really picture his friends and co-workers having a problem with the relationship the way John did, but this is still a big, scary deal. Dean’s terrified there will be ruined friendships, or he’ll accidentally let Ezekiel outside and lose her, or give everyone food poisoning, or his father will show up. Maybe he should find a nice doctor to give him a prescription for Xanax.

Dean takes off work a little early on Thursday so he can clean his room and make space in his closet for Ezekiel’s litterbox. All the stuff from the closet goes under Dean’s bed or in the linen closet across the hall. Wow, Dean’s really doing this, he’s going to have Castiel over for a long weekend. And it was _Dean’s_ idea. God, he does weird shit when he’s in love.

Castiel arrives at seven, duffel bag in one hand, cat carrier in the other. “I feel kind of giddy. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I’m kind of giddy too,” Dean says with a smile. He takes Castiel’s duffel and ushers him inside.

“You’ve done this before, though.”

“Not with you.”

They head upstairs to Dean’s room, Castiel blushing, Dean smirking, and Ezekiel meowing questioningly.

Dean doesn’t have much experience with cats, but Ezekiel seems like she’s becoming a fairly easygoing one lately. She takes the location change in stride, sniffing around Dean’s bed instead of running and hiding like he thought she would. Dean had worried a little that his room would feel small and crowded with Castiel and Ezekiel in it, but instead it feels more like home.

Not five minutes have gone by before there’s a knock at Dean’s door. “We’re decent!” he yells.

Sam pokes his head in. “Just wanted to see if you guys were settled in okay. Need anything?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Sam, if you want to play with Cas’ cat, just ask.”

Sam grins, coming into the room. “Well twist my arm.”

Castiel holds out Ezekiel, and Sam snatches her up eagerly, letting out what sounds a lot like an actual squeal of delight when Ezekiel settles into his hold right away. “She’s _so_ cute!”

Dean can’t help but pull out his phone to snap a photo of his overgrown brother being so enamored with a kitten.

Jess walks in, calling Sam’s name. “Sam? I thought we were going ingredient shopping… oh my _god_ how adorable!” Jess immediately starts stroking Ezekiel behind the ears, cooing and grinning while Dean and Castiel look at each other with raised eyebrows.

“Want us to go to the store while you guys get acquainted with Ezekiel here?” Dean suggests. Jess doesn’t even look at Dean as she pulls a wad of cash and a folded shopping list out of her pocket and holds her hand in Dean’s general direction.

Dean and Castiel wait until they’re down in the Impala before they give into the urge to laugh.

“Definitely didn’t expect Sam and Jess to turn into squeaky little kids over this, wow,” Dean says.

“Do you suppose it will be difficult to take Ezekiel away at the end of the weekend?”

“Yeah, I’ll have to distract them with something shiny while you sneak her out the back,” Dean says with a snort.

 

***

 

Dean doesn’t usually do the grocery shopping, as he tends to deviate from the list either purposefully, “Lisa, whole milk just tastes _better_ okay” or accidentally, “Sorry Sam, I really thought baking soda and baking powder were the same thing”. He gets bored and impatient, and on more than one occasion he’s ruined bread and eggs by tossing all the bags into his car. But Castiel knows what he’s doing. He knows that when it comes to macaroni salad, “mayonnaise and Miracle Whip are _not_ interchangeable, Dean” and that the heirloom tomatoes will taste much better on Dean’s burgers than the Roma tomatoes on sale, and instead of getting chips he buys extra potatoes to _make_ chips tomorrow.

Castiel has a focus in here, he’s in his element, he’s working with food. Something about shopping with Castiel is filling Dean with an odd feeling akin to domestic bliss, a fuzzy warmth that he can’t remember experiencing in his previous relationships. Dean feels guilty about that. The more he falls in love with Castiel, the more he realizes he _wasn’t_ in love with Lisa. He still thinks it’s shitty that she cheated; Dean didn’t deserve that. But he thinks he can kind of see how it got to the point where they’d drifted so far apart.

“Dean?”

Dean startles, realizing he’s been in front of the cheese case for at least a few minutes. “Uh, hey.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“How much I love you,” Dean says absentmindedly.

“Uh huh.”

Dean looks at Castiel fully. “No, honestly. That’s what I was thinking about.”

Castiel stares, eyes wide and gorgeous.

“If you tell anyone what a big sap I am I’ll kick your ass,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles and laces their fingers together. “No you won’t.”

Dean grins, moving in for a kiss. “No, I won’t.”

“ _Dean_?!”

Dean freezes. No. Nope. No way is Dean existing in a world where thinking of someone magically makes them appear. They should have chosen a different store, but Castiel insisted this one had the best produce. Castiel makes a pained sound and Dean realizes he’s kind of crushing the poor guy’s fingers. He mutters an apology, flexing his hand to free Castiel from his grip. He takes a deep breath, counts to ten, then turns to face Lisa, who looks… surprised? Horrified? Amused? Angry? Dean can’t for the life of him interpret the look on her face.

“Hey, Lisa.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Castiel whispers.

“What the _hell_ , Dean?” Lisa hisses. Off to a great start.

“What?”

“Since when are you _gay_?”

“I’m not _gay,_ Lisa.”

“You were about to kiss him.”

“Surely you’ve met bisexual people before.”

“Fine. Since when are you _bisexual_?”

“Since I was born, probably.”

“And you just forgot to mention it to me?”

“I didn’t mention it to anyone, Lisa.”

Lisa huffs in irritation. “I feel like our entire relationship was based on a lie. How do I know you weren’t screwing guys the whole time we were together?”

Jesus fucking Christ, Dean’s _never_ seen Lisa act like this. Cheating aside, she’s a nice person. Dean is really thrown.

Castiel sighs. “You never mentioned your ex was so unintelligent, Dean.”

Dean gapes at Castiel, because that’s by far the rudest thing Dean’s ever heard him say. Who the hell _are_ these people?

“I beg your pardon?” Lisa says, glaring at Castiel.

“Subscribing to the idea that bisexuals are somehow promiscuous or unfaithful by nature because they’re attracted to more than one gender doesn’t seem very intelligent,” Castiel says, glaring right back.

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean mutters.

But Castiel isn’t done. “Sexual orientation has no bearing on how monogamous a person is capable of being. That’s down to the individual. Bisexuals are not automatically prone to infidelity, same as those attracted to only one sex like you or me are not automatically prone to infidelity.” Castiel pauses, eyeing Lisa up and down with contempt. “Well, maybe not _you_.”

Dean is thirty years old, so he doesn’t point at Lisa and yell “oooo, burn”, but it’s a close thing. Dean expects Lisa to start yelling at this point, but instead her face falls and her shoulders slump like a marionette whose strings have been cut.

“I’m sorry,” Lisa says. “I know better, I just. This wasn’t what I expected, and I suddenly felt like I didn’t know you at all, Dean.”

“I get it,” Dean says, shrugging. “No one really knew. My family found out recently, and everyone else will find out tomorrow. I uh… hope they react a little better though.”

It’s hard to be mad at Lisa when she looks so sheepish. “I’m sorry, Dean. Not just for flying off the handle like some bigot, or acting like this was even any of my business, I’m sorry for cheating on you, and for the uh… uh…”

“The chlamydia,” Castiel says. He clearly left all his tact back in the produce section, and it’s kind of hilarious.

“Honestly Lisa,” Dean says, “if it wasn’t for the uh… you know.”

“Chlamydia.”

Dean elbows Castiel in the rib. “Stop saying chlamydia. Anyway if it wasn’t for all that, I wouldn’t be with Cas, so you know what? I’m pretty cool with it.”

This is the oddest conversation Dean’s had in his life. It’s petty, but the more uncomfortable Lisa looks, the better Dean feels. Plus, Castiel is putting off weird territorial vibes that are frankly kind of turning Dean on. Dean has some issues.

“Well that’s… good,” Lisa says uncertainly. She holds up a package of hamburger buns. “Um, I should go. I wasn’t supposed to be taking this long. I’m glad you’re okay, Dean.”

“I’m more than okay, Braeden.”

Lisa moves like she’s about to hug Dean, then glances at Castiel and stops. Awkward.

“Please do me a favor though,” Dean says. “I know we don’t really run in the same circles, but if you could keep this between us until after tomorrow, I’d appreciate it a lot. Just in case. Bobby’d probably skin me alive if he heard about this from someone else.”

Lisa smiles. “I suppose I can sit on this for a day. But if you’re that worried about Bobby finding out the wrong way, I’d hold off on the PDA until you tell him.”

Dean stares at his feet, feeling embarrassed. Lisa chuckles, walking out of sight. She always did love getting in the last word.

As the sound of Lisa’s footsteps fades away, Dean looks at Castiel, eyebrows raised. “When did you get so _catty_?”

“That was absolutely appalling, wasn’t it?”

“Well appalling is a strong word,” Dean says.

“First with Gordon, now this… I don’t understand why I’m behaving like such a child. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I have no concern that you’re going to cheat on me.”

“Well don’t tell anyone I said this, but the possessive thing is kind of a turn on, Cas. Uh unless you start like, yelling at anyone that talks to me and tracking the GPS in my phone, and lurking outside my house naked.” At Castiel’s horrified and confused stare Dean adds, “It was in a bad movie I saw.”

“It’s actually a turn on for you?”

“I’m just thinking about you fucking my brains out the night I met Gordon. You made me scream, Cas. Like you wanted the whole neighborhood to know I was yours. _Hot._ ”

Castiel’s gaze goes all hard and intense, and Dean feels his heart stutter in his chest. “Do you still have… supplies in the glove compartment?”

“Uh… y-yeah.”

“Move your car to the back of the lot, and get yourself ready. I’ll finish the shopping.”

Dean stares. Is he serious? Castiel cocks an impatient eyebrow. Yep, he’s serious. Dean turns and runs, stops, comes back to hand Castiel the cash and the grocery list, then runs out of the store.

He moves the Impala to the spot furthest from the store. There are no cars parked this far back, it's almost dark out, and the nearest streetlamp seems to be dying. Ideal real estate for car sex. He’s incredibly giddy, fingering himself open in the backseat of his car, knowing someone could catch him. It makes him so fucking excited he wants to throw up a little. He’s barely even aware of the progress he’s making until he realizes at some point he got up to three fingers. He’s naked from the waist down, leaning against the back door on the driver side of the car, leather jacket thrown over his lap. It’s pointless, covering himself up. Anyone walking close enough will still be able to see what he’s doing. Fuck, this is awesome.

His heart nearly jumps into his throat when the driver side front door is yanked open, but he relaxes when he sees the bags of groceries being set down. Not the cops, then. The door closes, and Dean can hear Castiel circle around to the rear passenger side door. Castiel pulls the door open and crawls into the backseat, shutting the door behind him. He locks eyes with Dean, reaching forward to yank the jacket out of the way. His eyes dart briefly to where Dean’s fingers are buried inside himself.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey.”

Dean lifts his free hand, gesturing to the condom and packet of lube sitting on the seat between his feet.

“You ready?” Castiel asks.

“Close enough.”

Castiel grins in a way that makes Dean’s breath catch, reaching down to open his pants. He has the condom rolled on and lubed up in no time, and then he’s crawling over Dean, kissing him like he paid for the privilege and working a hand down between them.

Dean had intended to keep quiet, but when Castiel presses inside, all bets are off. Dean moans, long and loud at the feel of his body stretching to accommodate Castiel, who smiles down at him.

“We are in public, Kitten. Perhaps you should keep it down.”

“Bite me, _Casper_.”

Castiel grins. “As you wish.” Castiel dips his head and bites down on Dean’s neck, clenching his teeth tight and thrusting in hard. It feels fucking amazing.

“Shit, Cas!”

Castiel’s response is to bite down even harder, and holy fuck this is going to be over _fast._ Less than two minutes go by before Dean is tensing, scrabbling at Castiel’s back.

“Fuck, I’m fuckin’ close already,” Dean pants.

Castiel carefully dislodges his teeth, slowing his hips slightly. “I’m getting very good at this.”

“Nobody likes a bragger, Cas.”

Castiel noses gently at the tender spot on Dean’s neck, and Dean can feel his smile. “This is going to leave a bruise.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah,” Castiel says. He bites back down in the same spot, and fuck it hurts. It hurts so much and yet Dean is coming _hard,_ voice gone high and breathy. Jesus Christ. Castiel didn’t even touch Dean’s dick. Castiel wasn’t even _moving_. The orgasm stretches out for several, long, wonderfully agonizing seconds, and Dean knows he’s making all sorts of wounded animal sounds, but he can’t rein himself in.

After he finally winds down, he realizes his eyes are closed, and slowly peels them open. Castiel is staring at him, jaw hanging wide open.

“What?” Dean says. “It’s not like this is the first time you’ve made me come with low effort.”

“Believe me, Dean, that doesn’t make it any less incredible to watch. I regret that I didn’t get that on video.”

“Your dick is still in my ass, you know.”

Castiel looks down. “Why, so it is.”

 

***

 

After, Castiel lays sprawled over Dean, breathing deep enough that Dean’s starting to suspect he’s fallen asleep. He’s about to try sitting up when Castiel lets out an annoyed sigh.

“What’s wrong, honeybunch?”

Castiel pulls back at looks at him, nose wrinkled.

“No idea where that came from,” Dean says, “let’s just breeze on past that, yeah? Why the sigh?”

“The ice cream I purchased is likely melting, but I don’t want to get up.”

“Aww, poor baby.”

Castiel grunts and sits back, grimacing when he gets a look at the come smeared on both their shirts. They probably should have undressed more. Castiel pulls off the condom, which Dean dries off and stuffs in his jacket pocket. This is all so very dignified. They really need a shower.

They spend a few minutes getting as presentable as they can, before moving the groceries to the back seat and heading back to Sam’s house.

Jess is in the kitchen when they get inside, it looks like she’s making room in the fridge. “Oh awesome! You can set everything on the counter, I’ll take care of it in a minute.”

Dean complies, setting everything down.

“Good luck getting your kitten back from Sam, he’s still up there playing with her,” Jess warns.

When Dean and Castiel get upstairs, Sam is crouched on the floor in Dean’s room, tickling Ezekiel’s belly. He looks so happy. Dean gives it a month after this weekend tops before Sam starts hunting for kittens on Craigslist.

Sam’s smile fades to a scowl as he gets a good look at Dean and Castiel’s messy hair and inside-out shirts. “Please tell me it wasn’t in the driveway.”

Dean grins. “Parking lot at the grocery store.”

“Ugh, Dean!”

“You know what they say about nature calling, Sammy,” Dean says. He casually stuffs his hands in his jacket's pockets, and grimaces. He forgot there was a used condom in there. Yuck.

“That’s about going to the bathroom! And speaking of, maybe you guys should get cleaned up. _We’ll_ be in my room,” Sam says, flouncing out of the room with Ezekiel in his arms.

Dean smirks at Castiel, tossing the condom into his wastebasket. “This never would’ve happened if Dad had let us have something other than a goldfish as a pet when we were kids.”

  
***

 

They manage a fairly chaste shower before they head back downstairs, clad in pajama pants and t-shirts. There’s some prep work they want to get out of the way tonight, making pie dough to chill, marinating chicken for skewers, boiling pasta for macaroni salad. As they enter the kitchen Castiel pulls a wad of fabric out of his pocket and starts tying it around his waist. It’s an apron, white background, pink trim, patterned in cupcakes, with little bows on the pockets.

“Um, what is that?” Dean asks.

“My apron.”

“Come on, I’ve never seen that apron before.”

“Well I lost it months ago, but today I found it under my bed.”

“Okay but isn’t that a woman’s apron?”

“Am I a woman?”

“Um… no?”

Castiel smirks. “Well then I guess it’s a man’s apron.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Weird.”

“Like you wouldn’t fuck me in this apron.”

“Please don’t.”

Dean and Castiel whip around to see Jess sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich and staring at them despondently. Damn, has Dean always been so unaware of his surroundings?

Castiel turns an adorable shade of pink and starts pulling out the ingredients for his pie dough. Dean shakes his head with a huff of laughter and gets ready to marinate his chicken.

 

***

 

Dean’s disappointed when he wakes up alone the next morning, but that feeling is quickly eradicated when the smell of breakfast hits him. _Yes._ He bounds out of his room, nearly colliding into Sam. Sam grins at him and for a moment Dean is a kid again, racing Sam to the table for Sunday morning breakfast even though there was always plenty of everything.

Castiel smiles from the stove when he sees Sam and Dean shoving their way into the kitchen. He’s in the apron again.

“Hungry?” Castiel asks.

“For a breakfast that isn’t cereal? Always,” Dean says.

Sam is practically swooning. “That smells _amazing_.”

“It’s almost ready, perhaps one of you could go and wake Jessica?”

“JESS! BREAKFAST!” Dean yells as loud as he can.

“BE RIGHT DOWN!”

Castiel snorts, shaking his head.

Breakfast is delicious and lively, and by the end of it everyone is stuffed full of hash browns, eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Dean is extremely grateful that their barbecue is happening much later in the day, because there’s no way he’s eating again before then.

They all sit in the living room, watching part of an airing of Independence Day while Sam and Dean bicker over whose turn it is to play with Ezekiel.

“Dude you get to play with her whenever you go to Cas’ place!”

“So? You had her all night! Without her litterbox I might add, since that’s still in my closet.”

“Don’t worry, Sam left his robe on the floor last night and she peed on that,” Jess says.

“Ha!”

“Sam is right,” Castiel says. “You can spend time with her later.” His voice is far too amused for Dean’s liking.

“Well it’s still my turn,” Dean mutters.

“You are adorable.”

“Shaddup, Casper.”

“Whatever you say, Kitten.”

Sam cackles.

It’s a nice way to spend the morning, though a few times Dean is uncomfortably reminded of what happened the last time the two of them were cuddled on this couch after breakfast. On some level Dean knows that no one in his life is all that likely to react with the severity that John did, but he can’t help but be nervous.

“I never understood how hiding in an open utility closet protected that woman and her son from such a massive explosion,” Castiel says.

Dean smiles, kissing Castiel’s hair. It’s time to stop worrying about what he might lose, and cherish what he’s already gained.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Dean and Castiel are changing into jeans when the first guest of the afternoon arrives. Sam shouts an “I’LL GET IT!” at the sound of the doorbell, and Castiel bites his lower lip, looking nervous.

“You okay?” Dean asks.

“I am very nervous about meeting your loved ones.”

“Hey, don’t worry. I know my dad flipped his shit, but I don’t think anyone coming over is going to have some homophobic freak out. I’m like ninety percent sure. And even if they do… screw ‘em!”

“It’s not that… I’m concerned that they won’t… like me.”

“Oh. _Oh._ Hey, you’re awesome, and you’re giving them professionally made pie, they’re going to love you. And even if they don’t--”

“Screw 'em?”

“Atta boy.”

 

***

 

It turns out the person at the door is Mary, so all that coming out stuff isn’t an issue yet. Mary beams at Dean and Castiel as they come downstairs.

“I know I’m early,” she says, “but your father was driving me _crazy_. He’s completely butthurt over not being invited.”

Dean blinks a few times rapidly. “Did you just say _butthurt_?”

“Did I use it wrong? That young man at the library is always saying it.”

“Yeah… you used it right. It’s just weird.”

“You know me, honey. I’m young at heart.”

“Sure you are.”

The doorbell rings, and Dean jumps. Mary looks at him, confused, then understanding. “No matter what, don’t forget that there are people in here who love you.”

Dean nods, heading over to the door. Ash is standing on the porch, holding a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and looking sheepish. This is a surprise. Ash has never been on time to _anything_.

“Sorry I’m so late,” Ash says, “got a bit of a late start and all.”

“Dude, you’re like an hour early,” Dean says.

“What? Really?”

“I said to show up around three or four. It’s two.”

“Awesome! Maybe I’ll go catch a nap on the couch then.” Ash shoves the beer into Dean’s arms and steps inside. He pauses in heading to the couch, seeming to notice Castiel for the first time. “New guy, huh? You work with Mrs. W at the library?”

“I’m a pastry chef,” Castiel says carefully.

“ _Really_. Well I’m Ash, and I’m always hungry _and_ make an excellent taste tester,” Ash says, sitting on the couch.

“Ash,” Dean says, “this is Castiel. My boyfriend.”

“Castiel? Sounds downright biblical… wait, your what?”

“My boyfriend.”

“SHUT THE F--” Ash pauses, looking over at Mary. “Front door.” Ash jumps up from the couch, practically shoving Dean out of the way to get a look at Castiel and shake his hand. “It sure is a surprise to meet you! I have so many questions. Are you baking anything for us?”

“Um, yes.”

“Okay, cool, cool. So, what’s Dean like in bed?”

“Ash!” Dean barks.

“I should uh… get started on the pies… and the chips,” Castiel says awkwardly. He all but bolts for the kitchen, wincing when he realizes Ash is following him.

“Okay so as a dude that digs other dudes, tell me something. Is this mullet really that outdated? My last girlfriend always wanted to do it with the lights off because of my hair, but I figured she just had bad taste…”

Dean turns to his mother as Castiel and Ash disappear into the kitchen. She’s very clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, _laugh it up_ ,” Dean says.

Mary reaches out, ruffling his hair. “One down, kiddo.”

Dean heads into the kitchen, where Ash is still trying to get Castiel’s opinion on his mullet. “Ash! My room’s free if you want to take a nap. Just don’t let Cas’ kitten out.”

Ash nods, tossing an odd salute Dean’s way and scampering up the stairs. Dean wraps an arm around Castiel’s waist, nuzzling at his hair.

“Thank _God,_ ” Castiel says, “I was desperately searching for a tactful way to let him know that I found his hair appalling.”

Dean laughs so hard he drools a little, and Castiel hands over a paper towel.

“This is an attractive moment for you,” Castiel says.

“Yeah? Drool turn you on?”

Castiel takes the paper towel from Dean and wipes Dean’s chin. “Oh, yes.”

“You’re a kinky son of a bitch, Cas.”

They work peacefully for a while. Well, Castiel works, Dean mostly watches while he prepares his pie filling and talks about how nice it is to not be in a hurry. Castiel is once again in his element, and watching the surety of his hands and the peaceful expression on his face as he prepares his ingredients slowly unknots some of Dean’s remaining nerves.

After fifteen minutes or so, Dean realizes he should start pre-forming his burger patties. He’s not cooking them yet; Bobby’s grill is way better than Sam’s and he’s bringing it over later, but Dean wants to let his patties set for a while.

The domesticity of working side by side in the kitchen with Castiel warms Dean in a wonderful but fairly frightening way. There’s that feeling of “Home” that settles over him. Suddenly his heart is speeding up, and he feels like he’s feeling too much. He washes his hands and puts plastic wrap over the plate of patties.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“Mess something up?” Castiel asks.

“No.”

Castiel sets a lid over his simmering pie filling. “Is something wrong?”

“I love you.”

“You don’t look particularly pleased about that.”

“I love you a lot. I love you a lot, and it’s this big huge feeling that puts all my past loves to shame.”

Castiel’s jaw drops slightly.

Dean keeps talking. “It never felt like this before. It feels big, Cas. It feels big and scary and sometimes it makes me panic a little, like I’m suddenly feeling more than I’m capable of.” Fuck, Dean needs to chill out. He’s not even making any sense. “There was a point where I thought this was all a rebound from Lisa, but it’s not. It’s bigger than that… and we haven’t even known each other that long, but this feels like… like…”

“It?” Castiel says softly.

Dean feels himself slump in relief. “Yeah.” He grabs Castiel’s hands abruptly. Castiel startles, but recovers quickly. He gently rubs his thumbs along Dean’s knuckles, smiling. “This feels like _it,_ Cas. And maybe it’s too soon to think like that? But I feel like I just _know,_ and it’s freaking me out. It’s scary, it’s so fucking scary.”

“Are you afraid that I--”

“No. No, I just… I love you, and it’s scary. You feel like home, Cas.”

Castiel brings one of Dean’s hands to his lips, kissing it gently and nuzzling at it with a sigh. “You must know I feel the same way, Dean,” he says, voice cracking.

Dean can feel his eyes welling up. Fuck. He stumbled ass-backward into this tender moment, the least he can do is not start crying. He leans forward to kiss Castiel and hears a tiny sniffle. A sniffle that didn’t come from him. Or Castiel.

Slowly, the two of them turn toward the entrance to the kitchen. Mary is standing there smiling tearfully, Sam has the same look on his face he had during most of March of the Penguins, and fucking _Bobby_ is there, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

Dean opens his mouth to speak, and at first nothing comes out. He tries again. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Since you finished washing your hands,” Sam says.

“Jesus _Christ_ , why didn’t you say something?!”

“We got kind of absorbed in the moment?”

“Fuck!” Dean feels raw and humiliated, and he needs a minute to himself. “Bobby, _my boyfriend,_ Castiel. Cas, Bobby.” He starts to storm away, then goes back and grabs Castiel’s hand, pulling him out of the room as well.

He hears Bobby in the background as he makes his way to the stairs. “This why John’s been so pissy?”

 

***

 

Ash is passed out on Dean’s bed when they get upstairs, so Dean shoves him awake. He looks up at Dean with confused, bleary eyes.

“Couch, Ash,” Dean says.

Ash nods, drifting out of the room on autopilot. Dean listens to make sure Ash isn’t falling down the stairs, then closes the door and flings himself on his bed with a groan, rolling onto his back while Castiel looks at him fondly.

“Quit _gazing_ at me,” Dean grouses.

Castiel smiles. “No.”

Dean whines and flips over, burying his face in his pillows. The top pillow smells like Ash’s cheap-ass soap, and Dean tosses it onto the floor.

“I’m not sure this is an ideal time for napping,” Castiel says.

“But I’m exhausted.”

Castiel tuts. “You have burgers to cook, friends to come out to, and if I recall correctly, you wanted to watch me assemble my pie.”

“But I’m tired! And tense. And tired.”

“Gabriel will probably be here soon. Do you intend to let him in your home unsupervised?”

“Is he that bad?”

“He can be obnoxious at gatherings. But I suppose I can always hope he’ll behave himself for once.”

“You’re not making me want to get up!”

“I could suck you off?” Castiel says casually, locking the door.

Dean jams his hands under himself, fighting to get his zipper open before he’s even turned over. Castiel waits until Dean is on his back again before crawling over him, gently pressing their lips together.

“You can’t go all lazy and sleepy if I do this,” Castiel warns.

Dean's only response is to nod enthusiastically.

 

***

 

By the time they come downstairs, Bobby and Mary are nowhere to be seen, but Ash and Benny are watching another airing of Independence Day, drinking the beers that Ash brought.

Benny grins when he sees Dean. “Hey, Chief. Ash here says you’ve got some news that’ll blow my mind.”

Dean shoots a glare at Ash, who smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, well… I’m seeing someone, it’s getting serious and all that.”

“Please tell me it ain’t Lisa.”

“ _No,_ why does everyone think that?!”

“Just making sure, brother. So, who is she? If it’s mind blowing, it must be someone I know.”

Dean squirms. At what point does this become easier? “Benny, this is Castiel.”

Benny gives Castiel a friendly gesture with his beer hand. “Hey, man.” Dean can see Ash watching eagerly for Benny’s reaction, the dick.

“Hello,” Castiel says.

“He’s the one I’m seeing,” Dean says.

Benny sets his beer down. “Seeing, like _seeing_?”

“Like seeing _naked_ ,” Ash says with a leer.

Dean’s going to punch Ash in the balls later. “Yeah, seeing.”

“And it’s serious?”

“Tearful declarations of love and everything,” Dean says. Castiel shifts in discomfort.

Benny gives Castiel a long, searching look. “So, what’s Dean like in the sack?”

Ash bursts into laughter while Dean throws his hands up in exasperation, huffing off to the kitchen with Castiel right behind him.

“They wouldn’t tell me either,” Ash says between laughs.

As they walk through the kitchen toward the back door, Castiel grabs Dean’s arm, halting him. “Are you alright?”

“Believe me,” Dean says, “I’ll take teasing and invasive questions over a reaction like my father’s any day of the week. Even Bobby walking in on my little meltdown is better. No one’s stormed out, no one’s angry. I’m doing good.”

And Dean means it. This is all awkward and embarrassing as fuck, but at the end of today it’ll all be out in the open and Dean can just… be. As corny as it is, today feels like the first day of the rest of his life. He’ll keep that to himself though, he’s wearing more than enough on his sleeve today for fuck’s sake.

Sam and Bobby are setting up the grill out back, while Jess and Mary are cleaning off the big fold out tables that only get dragged out of the shed for days like today. Mary smiles when she sees them, sending them to the shed to fetch the fold out chairs. Once the chairs are set up, Dean gives Castiel a nudge.

“You’d better get started on your pies, I’m going to have an awkward chat with Bobby.”

“Aw,” Castiel says, “I thought you wanted to watch me make them.”

“Well I guess I’ll have to come watch you at work some time.”

Castiel smiles. “I’d like that, actually. But I’m warning you now, there are rules and regulations against you _touching_ things in a professional kitchen.”

“You mean like food and equipment?”

“And cooking surfaces.”

Dean leans in close, lips by Castiel’s ear. “I’m sure I’ll have better things to put my hands on, Cas.”

Dean grins at the shudder that runs through Castiel. He heads over to Bobby and Sam while Castiel goes back to the kitchen.

“Grill’s about ready. The thing was _filthy_ ,” Sam says with disdain.

“I’ll take my dirty old grill over your damn hibachi, boy,” Bobby grumbles.

“Whatever you say, Bobby,” Sam says. He looks over at Dean. “Want me to scram?”

“Just for a minute,” Dean says.

Bobby raises an eyebrow at Dean as Sam goes back inside. “There a problem?”

“That’s kind of what I wanted to ask you,” Dean says, uncomfortable.

Bobby actually rolls his eyes. “Boy, I ain’t John, I’m not gonna shit my pants over two boys in love.”

Dean feels so relieved he could throw up. Bobby’s not only his boss, he’s _Uncle Bobby,_ John’s old military buddy that’s been in Dean’s life for as long as he can remember. The thought of him reacting like John…

“You were that worried, huh? Feelin’ a little insulted, here,” Bobby says.

“Sorry Bobby, I just… it’s never come up, I didn’t know how you felt about that kinda thing, and my dad--”

“Your daddy doesn’t have the sense God gave him,” Bobby says.

“Kind of surprised he didn’t tell you, I thought Mom shipped him off to your place a while back.”

“She did, and he was insufferable,” Bobby says with a grimace. “I told him if Mary was pissed enough to boot him out for the night, I wasn’t likely to take his side either, so he opted not to share. He told me he was seein’ a shrink for a ‘phobia’ and I assumed it was that fear of planes he passed onto you… but well now I suspect it’s a different sort of phobia.”

“Yeah, Mom made him.”

“How’s it comin’ along? He only mentioned it the one time.”

“Dunno. Haven’t talked to him since he rammed Cas’ car out of spite. Him and me, we’ve got some issues going back a long ways, and I’m not really up to talking to him again. Not now.”

“Can’t say I blame you. Your old man is as stubborn as a mule--”

“And twice as ugly!”

Dean turns to see Ellen and Jo Harvelle standing by the back door. He smiles and waves. “Ladies.”

Ellen looks around, then back at Dean. “Don’t see any _ladies_ here, but okay. So, why are we trashing John? He not here?”

“He wasn’t invited,” Dean says.

“You two on the outs?” Jo says, hugging one of Dean’s arms. “Wanna go somewhere and talk about it?”

Jo’s always had a crush on Dean, and she’s never gotten along with any of Dean’s girlfriends. He’s not sure how she’ll react to this, Dean being in another relationship. He loves Jo, and he hates the way he inevitably hears from her less when she finds out he’s seeing someone.

“Trust me,” Dean says, “he’s definitely in the wrong this time.”

“Well what’d he do?” Ellen asks.

“Acted like a massive homophobic douchebag, for one,” Dean says.

Ellen frowns. “Well that’s disappointing to hear.”

“Not surprising though," Jo says, "you know how old guys are sometimes.”

Bobby flicks Jo on the ear. “Hey, now. Some of us old farts are perfectly fine with the LGBBQ types.”

Jo rolls her eyes. “LGBTQA, old man.”

“Let me guess,” Ellen says, “John saw two men holding hands at the hardware store and pitched a fit?”

Dean glances over at Jo. “Not exactly, more like he met my boyfriend and then intentionally smashed into his car just to be an asshole.”

Jo lets go of Dean like he’s on fire, staring up at him with raised eyebrows. “I beg your fucking pardon?!”

“Joanna Beth!” Ellen barks. Ellen Harvelle curses more than anyone Dean’s ever met, and yet she turns into a prim church mom the moment Jo starts swearing. Dean’s never understood that.

“Since when are you gay?” Jo says. Not this again.

“The phrase is _bisexual,_ Jo. It’s the B in LGBTQA.”

“Well since when are you bi?”

“Since always?”

“And you didn’t tell me?!”

“Look, if you’d been around the day my old man caught me about to get fucked by Vic, you’d know why I was scared to let that little tidbit be known.”

If Jo wasn’t angry before, she is now. “VICTOR HENRIKSEN? MY HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND?!”

“Jesus Christ, Jo, _unclench,_ it was long after you dumped him for that guy… God, what was his name? The really boring dude.”

Ellen laughs fondly. “Baldur, I remember him. Jo thought he was her soulmate for about a week.”

“I didn’t know Victor was bi either,” Jo says.

“Actually,” Dean says, trying not to smile, “ _he_ was full on gay.”

Jo sighs. “Of course he was.”

“So, John had a hissy fit about you dating a man?”

“Yeah. Mom made him start seeing a shrink for his homophobia,” Dean says, ignoring Jo’s snort. “But I still don’t want to talk to him. So he’s not here.”

“Yeah, well I don’t blame you,” Jo says, “let the guy stew. So when do we get to meet… wait. Is he that hot guy in the kitchen making _pie_?!”

“Castiel Novak, pastry chef and co-owner of ‘Angel Cakes’,” Dean says.

“Of _course_ you’re dating a pastry chef,” Ellen says, looking down at Dean’s stomach. “And by the looks of you he’s been giving you some free samples.”

Damn, that was cold. Dean needs to start doing some crunches or something.

“More cushion for the pushin’!” Dean says cheerfully. Ellen and Bobby groan.

“So, then. How _is_ the sex?” Jo asks, poking Dean in the arm.

Dean sighs.

 

***

 

By the time Dean has introduced Castiel to Ellen and Jo, all of Sam’s friends have arrived as well. They show up together, because Sam is friends with people who _carpool_. He introduces them to Cas all at once, and there are a couple of surprised looks, but they’re not Dean’s people, so he’s not all that concerned. It’s hard to care about _anything_ with a house that smells like apple pie.

Once it’s time to fire up the grill, Dean finds himself suddenly alone in the backyard. Castiel is in the kitchen, swapping cornbread recipes with Ellen and Bobby, Sam and Jess are making a beer run, and everyone else is crammed in the living room watching yet another airing of Independence Day. Dean’s finally realized that the channel is playing it on a loop all day and that’s why it seems like it’s on every time he goes in the living room. It’s wonderful having such a full house, and Dean’s already thinking about who might be over for Thanksgiving. Castiel probably makes an awesome pumpkin pie.

He’s just finishing the first batch of burgers when he gets the unsettling feeling that he’s being watched. He turns towards the house, and startles when he sees a man standing on the deck. The man looks to be in his mid-forties, dressed like an Oxford history professor or some shit, and he’s staring at Dean like he’s mentally undressing him. It’s an expression Dean loves seeing on Castiel’s face. This guy? Not so much.

“Uh, hey,” Dean says, taking a package of hand wipes out of his back pocket and cleaning off his fingers.

“Hello there,” the man says.

“Uh… I just put the patties on the grill, so they’re not ready yet.”

“Oh that’s fine,” the man says, stepping closer to Dean.

Oh Jesus, this is Gordon Walker all over again. Except this guy creeps Dean out even more. “Uh, I’m Dean. Are you a friend of Sam’s?”

“Cuthbert Sinclair, Jess invited me.”

Dean has to bite back a laugh, because what the hell kind of name is Cuthbert Sinclair? The guy looks like he wants to chain Dean up in his basement or something though, and it’s freaking Dean right out. He busies himself with the grill, pretending to be working on it.

“So, Dean,” Cuthbert says, “what do you do for a living?”

“Uh, I’m a mechanic. And you’re uh… a teacher?”

“Vice Principal.”

“Cool.”

“I heard your friends talking inside. Something about you coming out? This must be a difficult day for you.”

Who the fuck says that to a stranger?

“Um, no it’s fine, everyone here took it well.”

“That’s good news.” Cuthbert is standing far too close now, Dean doesn’t have the patience for this.

“Has anyone ever told you that you give off a real predatory vibe, dude?”

Cuthbert laughs, startled. “Yes.”

“Okay well, personal space.”

Cuthbert seems to find Dean’s discomfort amusing, which pisses Dean right off. If the guy wasn’t a friend of Jess, Dean would have probably punched him by now. He just rubs Dean the wrong way. Vigorously.

“So,” Dean says, checking the burgers for the ninth time, “you’re the friend Jess gave a pity invite to?”

Cuthbert smirks. “Now, I can’t imagine Jessica saying something so rude.”

“I’m paraphrasing.”

“You have moxie, Dean.”

“You have a lack of boundaries, _Cuthbert._ ”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re gorgeous when you’re angry?”

“Probably.”

“Are you seeing anyone, Dean?”

“Yes. He’s hot, and he has a jealous streak, and he threatened the last guy that hit on me so you should probably piss off.”

Cuthbert chuckles. “Ah, an invisible jealous boyfriend. Somehow I doubt your story.”

“No, that’s all true, I’m afraid.”

Dean and Cuthbert turn toward the house. Does Castiel have some sort of radar for when Dean is being perved on by sleazy guys? If so, awesome. He’s holding a warming dish, probably for Dean’s burgers. His grip on the dish is tight, his face clenched.

“What,” Cuthbert still sounds amused, “so you’re really his jealous boyf-- wait. Don’t I know you?”

“I believe we were introduced at a social function, yes,” Castiel says.

“Yes, you dated Fergus Crowley, right?”

Crowley’s first name is _Fergus_? Ha.

“Yes,” Castiel says coldly.

Cuthbert pales suddenly. “You’re the ex-boyfriend that put him in the _hospital_.”

“I don’t do well with men who don’t know when to keep their hands to themselves,” Castiel says, and Dean thinks his dick just twitched a little. Fuck, he needs therapy.

Cuthbert’s jaw drops open slightly, and he quite literally flees into the house. Dean steps over to Castiel and pries the dish out of his hands and sets it on one of the tables. He takes a moment to flip all the patties on the grill before he addresses Castiel.

“Dude, you have a _terrible_ reputation.”

“Apparently.”

“Well it works for me, since something about dating you has turned me into a magnet for intense and creepy men. That happen to know you in some way.”

Castiel frowns. “I’m sure it’s a coincidence.”

Castiel’s shirt collar is crooked, and Dean reaches out to fix it. “Are you okay?”

“What if he’s in there telling all of your friends that I’m some sort of violent and jealous creep?”

“Aw, you’re not a creep.”

“But I’m violent and jealous?”

“Let’s call you scrappy and possessive.”

Castiel sighs.

“Dude, I’m joking,” Dean says. “I’m pretty sure _my_ opinion is more important than some douchey vice principal.”

Castiel nods. “That’s true.”

“So,” Dean says, “do you want to go fuck in the storage shed?”

Castiel stares at Dean. “That is an _incredibly_ unhealthy fetish you seem to be developing.”

“It’s not a _fetish,_ okay?”

“What would you call it?”

“A… favorable reaction.”

Castiel rolls his eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’m fucked in the head, my ex-girlfriend didn’t want me enough, so seeing you try to defend my damn honor or whatever gets me a little tingly. I promise not to go flirting with random dudes just to get you jealous, okay?”

Castiel looks confused. “Thank you?”

“So what about the shed?”

“Check on your burgers, I’m going to go get your chicken skewers.”

Dean whines. “Come _on._ ”

Castiel pats Dean on the head. He doesn’t leave, though, instead lingering while Dean piles the finished burgers into the warming dish and covers it with foil to stop moisture from escaping. When Dean is done, Castiel steps into his personal space, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and bringing their lips together.

“I love you.”

Dean glances at the shed. “Enough to--”

“No.”

 

***

 

When they go inside, Castiel checks on the oven while Dean goes into the living room to let everyone know the meal is moving along. There are many, many pairs of eyes trained on him when he enters.

“Uh… _what_?” Dean says.

Jess looks confused. “Um, Cuthbert left. He said he was flirting with you, and Castiel threatened him?”

“He also said that the last man who dated Castiel ended up in the hospital,” Ellen adds.

“Your man sounds feisty,” Benny says.

“Oh for crying out loud. Cuthbert is scared of Cas, because Cas broke his ex-boyfriend’s arm. And Cas broke his ex-boyfriend’s arm because the guy was looking to commit sexual assault,” Dean says. He winces. Maybe he shouldn’t be out here sharing Castiel’s painful memories.

“Really?” Ash sounds interested. “He kicked someone’s ass? He seems so… what’s another word for ‘meek’?”

“Well he’s not _meek._ He’s polite,” Dean says.

“And _very_ sweet,” Mary says, “you didn’t see the two of them declaring their love and devotion in the kitchen.”

Oh, hell.

“Are you serious?” Jo looks between Dean and Mary in disbelief.

“I saw it myself,” Sam says. “Actually tearfully declaring their love. It was honestly touching.”

“Bobby cried,” Mary adds.

“You know, eavesdropping on a private conversation and then _telling everyone_ about it isn’t cool,” Dean says, glaring.

“Oh honey, I just want them to know what a sweet young man you have,” Mary says.

Castiel comes out, holding Dean’s container of skewers. “Dean?”

“Better get cooking, boy,” Bobby says, “I brought a big appetite.”

Dean gratefully accepts the out, dragging Castiel back towards the kitchen. “That’s pretty nice timing, Cas.”

“Not really. I was listening. The poor manners of your extended family must be rubbing off on me,” Castiel says, winking.

“Uh huh.”

 

***

 

Dean’s back in the kitchen to grab the hot dogs while Castiel takes the skewers off the grill. “Getting close, guys! Hope you’re excited!” he yells. Before anyone can respond, the doorbell goes off and Dean is treated to a chorus of “DEAN, DOOR”. Lazy fucks.

When Dean opens the door it’s Gabriel, holding a small box of fireworks and grinning big. For all the time Dean’s spent with Castiel, he hasn’t seen all that much of Gabriel, and he’s never seen him outside Angel Cakes.

“Those look… illegal,” Dean says, staring down at the box.

Gabriel winks. “I live dangerously, Dean-o!”

Dean sighs, gesturing for Gabriel to come inside. “Everyone, this is Castiel’s brother, Gabriel, who seems to have a box of illegal fireworks. Gabriel, this is everyone I hold dear. Please don’t blow them up.”

Ash and Sam’s friend Andy immediately hop to their feet, rushing over to inspect the fireworks.

“Where’d you _get_ this stuff?” Andy says in awe.

“I have a guy!” Gabriel replies cheerfully. “Does this mean I can count on you to come with me to the quarry later?”

“Hell yes!” Ash says, pumping his fist.

Dean heads back through the kitchen while people start to swarm around Gabriel and his box of certain death. Castiel is sitting at the table outside when Dean comes back out with the hot dogs, staring at the growing collection of foil covered pans.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks, arranging the hot dogs on the grill.

“I’m taking a moment.”

“A moment?”

“Yes, pausing to appreciate the day and all the emotions it has brought.”

Castiel’s tone is impressively dry, and Dean smiles. “Well when you’re done having a moment, your brother is in the living room with a box of illegal fireworks.”

“Ah, yes. He’ll be wanting to head to the quarry once night falls. I stopped going with him after he accidentally burned off his girlfriend’s eyebrows.”

Dean is startled into laughter, muttering a curse when a hot dog falls on the ground. “Fuck, seriously?”

“Their relationship did not survive the evening.”

“That’s awesome. So, we good to go?”

Castiel gestures to the table. “Homemade chips, macaroni salad, burger patties, skewers, apple and cherry pie, all waiting to be devoured. The burger toppings and condiments are waiting in the fridge, and the buns are on the kitchen counter.”

Dean grins at Castiel. “You make a great sous-chef.”

“Do you normally do this alone?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes the family helps out. But you’re here, and you’re the best.”

“Oh yes, I am quite skilled at placing dishes onto tables.”

“And don’t let anyone tell you different.”

“I like this,” Castiel says, smiling wistfully. “There’s a great deal of love in this house.”

“No warm and fuzzy summertime parties at your old homestead?”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Hardly. There were large meals prepared for Easter and Thanksgiving, a lavish yearly Christmas party, but it wasn’t like this. Everyone is stuffed in the living room, laughing and talking and enjoying a movie. Much of our meal can be eaten with our _hands._ I swapped recipes with a mechanic and a bar owner. Definitely things that would not occur at a gathering thrown by my family.”

Dean smirks. “Didn’t mingle with the blue collar folk?”

“Not really, no.”

“Just other boring, wealthy conservatives?”

Castiel nods.

Dean frowns. “Was the food good at least?”

“Oh, yes. Delicious, tiny, pretentious portions.”

“Is there anything you miss about your old life?”

Castiel pauses, really seeming to consider the question while Dean tends to the grill. “Not anymore. At first, there were things I missed. I missed all my books, but then I got a library card, so that didn’t matter. I missed having my own room, but I got used to living with Gabriel, and eventually got my own place. I missed the good food, but I learned how to make my _own_ good food. I never missed my family. I was lonely with or without them. And now I have you and Gabriel.”

Castiel opens his mouth to say more, then frowns, looking at the house. Benny and Jo are standing there, looking uncomfortable. This is getting ridiculous.

“Am I the _only_ person that doesn’t go around eavesdropping on people?!” Dean growls.

“We didn’t want to interrupt,” Benny says.

“Yeah, I’ve heard this all before. No damn manners, I swear to God. Hell, even Cas has eavesdropped _twice_ today,” Dean grumbles.

“You’re _welcome,_ ” Castiel says. He has a point. Castiel got him out of the conversation with Cuthbert, and the awkward talk in the living room. But still. Private moment, here.

“It’s not that hard to announce yourself, or maybe walk away for fuck’s sake,” Dean says, waving his barbecue fork in agitation.

“Well _maybe_ you should start having your intimate conversations in locked rooms,” Jo says.

“And your sex,” Benny adds.

Dean sighs, muttering “Jess” under his breath.

“She said if she’d had a camera with her she could have made a nice bundle of cash from a porn site,” Jo says, leering.

“This is the worst fucking day of my life,” Dean says.

Jo grins. “I’ll go get the condiments.”

“I’ll go get the buns,” Benny says.

“I’ll go get the paper plates,” Castiel says.

“ _Fine,_ ” Dean says, “I’ll go get all the people in the living room that are probably talking about what I look like naked.”

 

***

 

The food is good, of course. Dean might not be any kind of professional chef, but he knows his way around a burger. He knows his boyfriend agrees, because after his first bite Castiel moans beside him, sounding so enthusiastic it makes Dean’s dick twitch eagerly in his jeans.

“Down, boy,” Dean mutters.

“Pardon?” Benny says from Dean’s other side.

“I said oh, boy. This skewer is quite good… if I do say so myself.”

“Always so humble, brother,” Benny says, saluting him with a chicken skewer.

“This burger is _fantastic_ , Dean,” Jo says.

Dean grins at the round of groaned agreement Jo receives. “Wait till you try dessert. Cas’ desserts will make you weep.”

Castiel blushes.

“I can’t believe you ended up dating a pastry chef,” Ash says, mouth full of ground beef.

“Damn hedonist,” Bobby says.

Jo points at Dean with her fork. “So, how did you two meet?”

Castiel starts to answer, and Dean kicks him under the table. He doesn’t want a repeat of brunch with his mom. “At a bar.”

Ash actually finishes chewing before he speaks. “What, like a gay bar?”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, like a gay bar.”

“Was it the one with all the burly truckers, or the one with all the dance music?” Andy asks. Sam looks over at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“It was the uh… second one,” Dean says, “I didn’t know there was one with burly truckers. Probably would’ve fit in better. Everyone else there was dressed all nice.”

“I’m sure they were real intimidated by you,” Ellen says.

“Hey, I got hit on a _lot_ while I was there! But there was no one that struck my fancy until Cas here,” Dean says.

“Awwwww.” Dean wasn’t looking, but he thinks that came from Jess.

“Yeah, yeah, real romantic. A tale we’ll regale the grandkids with for years, I’m sure,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. He startles at the odd choking noise coming from next to him.

Castiel is staring at him with wide eyes. “Grandkids?”

Dean’s about to take back what he said, explain it was a figure of speech, but then changes his mind. “What, you never think about that stuff?”

“No, I do. I just thought telling my boyfriend of less than two months about it might scare him off.”

“So you’ve thought about… kids.”

“Just in passing. I know we haven’t… I mean I know we’re not… they’re only musings, not plans.”

“Well… if we ever got… you know… _there_ … some day. Down the road. I’d uh… I’m open to kids.”

Castiel smiles. “Me too.”

“Do you two always have these deep and meaningful moments in public?” Gabriel says.

Oh for crying out loud. Dean forgot he was sitting in Sam’s backyard with virtually everyone he knows. Judging by the look on Castiel’s face, he forgot too.

Sam jabs a finger in Dean’s direction. “You’re not blaming this on us, Dean. Nobody snuck in unannounced, you two just started _talking_.”

“Yeah, fine,” Dean says, glaring down at his plate.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jo says, “that was about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dean starts to make a snappy remark, when he realizes Jo is being _sincere_ , which is a far cry from how she usually gets with the people Dean dates. Maybe he should let it slide.

“Can we change the subject?” he says.

“Fine, fine,” Jo says.

In a poor effort to change the subject, Benny starts talking. “So I heard from your mom that John rammed into Castiel’s car on purpose?”

Ash whistles. “ _Damn._ ”

“I also heard you fixed the damage yourself, then overcharged him for parts and labor,” Benny adds with a snort.

“Uh,” Dean says eloquently.

“Good to see you fight back, son,” Bobby says with a grin.

“John cursed up a storm when he got that bill,” Mary says proudly. “What did you end up spending the money on?”

Dean knows he’s blushing. He picks at the remains of food, not looking up at anyone. “It’s um… I cashed it and put the money in a jar on the fridge. We’re um… we haven’t gone on many _official_ dates, so that’s what we’re using it for. We’ve gone on one so far, some pricey restaurant. We talked about maybe making a list at some point, like restaurants we wanted to eat at and stuff... and then doing all the stuff on the list until we plowed through the cash in the jar.”

For a long moment, no one speaks, and Dean is so uncomfortable he’s considering outright bolting into the house.

At last, Jo speaks. “That gets second place for the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Cut the boy some slack, Jo!” Benny says.

“Yeah,” Ash says with a smirk, “he’s in _love_!”

Dean looks at Castiel. “Yeah... I am.”

 

***

 

Castiel’s dessert offerings are very well received by everyone. There’s even some heated bickering between Ash and Andy about who should get the last slice of the apple pie before Mary reaches over and takes it for herself. Castiel gets bombarded with so many compliments he develops an almost permanent blush on his cheeks.

When the sun goes down, everyone piles into Andy’s van and Ash’s truck to head to the quarry. Sam’s friends Ava and Jake are the only ones who didn’t have anything to drink, so they get the honor of being the drivers. Ava drives like she’s trying to outrun the cops, and Dean spends the ride to the quarry clinging to Castiel for dear life, while Mary, Ellen, and Bobby hoot and holler like a bunch of teenagers. Dean thinks this might be the most inebriated he’s ever seen his mother, it’s awesome.

At the quarry, everyone contents themselves with sparklers while Gabriel gets all of his fireworks ready. Castiel and Dean sit on the tailgate of Ash’s truck, watching everyone run around.

“Today turned out pretty good, huh?” Dean says, nudging Castiel.

“We’ll see,” Castiel says.

“What do you mean?”

“If everyone still has their eyebrows by the time we leave, then I’ll say the day went well.”

“I heard that!” Gabriel whines.

Castiel smiles and gives Gabriel a thumbs up, a gesture that seems strange but adorable on him. “I hope there aren’t many people using fireworks back near your home. I hate to think of Ezekiel alone and frightened in a strange house.”

“Hopefully if she panics she’ll decide to pee on Sam’s stuff, not mine.”

Castiel chuckles. “Perhaps if I’ve sobered up before bed I can go home and get a bag of her treats and her favorite toy. In my nervousness I forgot to pack them.”

“Awww, aren’t you the cutest cat daddy. You know, we’re probably going to have overnight guests at the house.”

“Mhmm?”

“Won’t have much in the way of privacy.”

“Yes?”

“So maybe I should come help you find Ezekiel’s toy.”

“I hardly think I’ll need your help finding it.”

Dean stares at Castiel, waiting for him to get it. He raises his eyebrows and puts a bit of a leer into his expression, and realization finally dawns on Castiel’s face.

“ _Oh._ ”

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Dean says.

“You should be nicer to the man you’re hoping to have sex with.”

Dean’s about to give what surely would have been a zinger of a reply when Gabriel yells that he’s ready to start “the show”.

Gabriel’s Illegal Fireworks Bonanza (his name for it, not Dean’s) is a blur of noise and color, lasting close to an hour. When it’s over, everyone pitches in to get rid of the mess before piling back into the vehicles and making their way back to Sam’s place.

Nobody loses any eyebrows, and Castiel concedes to Dean that the day did in fact go well.

 

***

 

By the time Castiel is ready to drive, it’s well after midnight and there’s an odd slumber party going on in the living room. Many of the guests have gone home, but Benny, Ash, Gabriel, and Jo are all bundled up in spare blankets in the living room, watching what Dean assumes is the day’s final airing of Independence Day with Sam and Jess. Rather than subject themselves to a great deal of teasing, Dean and Castiel slip out the back and make the trip to Castiel’s apartment in Castiel’s arguably quieter car. Dean spends the ride over staring at Castiel and grinning, while Castiel tells him to stop being distracting while he’s driving.

They pull up to Castiel’s place and spend a minute or two making out in the front seat.

“You gonna be up for driving back after I rock your world?” Dean asks.

“Are you planning on rendering me unconscious with your sexual prowess, Dean?”

“I might be. Don’t worry about your cat, I’m sure Sam’s gonna take care of her.”

Castiel smiles. “We’ll see.”

They climb out of the car, and head to Castiel’s door, pausing when they see that there’s an envelope taped to it.

“Oooh, a secret admirer?” Dean teases.

“A token of affection from one of my many suitors, I’m sure,” Castiel says, opening the envelope. He reads the letter inside, frowning deeply. Dean can’t read it from where he’s standing, but he can see it’s something typed.

“Cas? Are you okay?”

Castiel reads the page aloud. “Mister Novak, it has come to the attention of the management that you are in possession of a cat, which as you know is a clear violation of your rental agreement. Additionally, there have been a number of noise related complaints made by your neighbors. Unfortunately, I will be terminating your contract with our building, and ask that you vacate your apartment in full, within thirty days of the date stamped at the top of this notice. Your violation of the rental agreement also means a forfeiture of your security deposit, as stated in the contract you signed. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me after the holiday weekend. Regards, Dick Roman, Titan Management.”

Dean sucks in a long, surprised breath. “I didn’t know you weren’t allowed pets.” Castiel shoots Dean a glare, and Dean holds his hands up defensively. “What were the noise complaints for? Us?”

“I wouldn’t know, I never received any complaints. But I suppose they could be about our ah… enthusiastic lovemaking.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry, Cas. Fuck.”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s _alright_?”

“The shop has been doing well, I have no real reason to keep staying in this small apartment. Ezekiel and I can stay with Gabriel and I’ll look for a new place. Maybe one closer to my shop, or closer to you,” Castiel says, lacing their fingers together.

Dean grins, squeezing Castiel’s hand gently. “You’re taking this really well.”

“Well, I _am_ angry, I suppose. When I was loading Ezekiel’s carrier into the car yesterday, I saw Gordon coming out to check his mail. I’d been hoping he hadn’t seen the carrier, but it would seem he did. I expect the noise complaints are from him as well. My neighbor on the other side works nights, she wouldn’t have heard… us.”

“This ain’t right, you shouldn’t get kicked out over some guy’s weird vendetta.”

“I _did_ violate my rental agreement.”

“But he-”

“And I’m not attached to this place.”

“But-”

“I can move into a larger apartment, or maybe rent a house, something with a _real_ kitchen. I am irritated Gordon has done this, but I am at peace with the result.”

“I don’t like the idea of him thinking he’s won.”

“Let him,” Castiel says, opening the door to the apartment and pulling Dean inside. “Let him think whatever he wants. I’m happy with my life, I don’t care _what_ he thinks.”

Dean narrows his eyes as he closes and locks the door. “You’re full of shit, aren’t you?”

“Okay, _maybe_ I want to key his car in revenge, but I don’t care to let my temper make my decisions for me. Often.”

“There it is. Well I think you should get out some of that pent up rage. On your bed. Against the wall. Loudly.”

“But Dean,” Castiel says in mock concern, “what if I receive a noise complaint?”

Dean wraps his arms around Castiel, pulling their bodies together. “Shit. Maybe just some chaste kissing and over the shirt action?”

Castiel lowers his lips to Dean’s neck. “Yes. Nothing untoward.”

 

***

 

Twenty minutes later and Dean is lubed up and naked on his knees at the head of the bed, palms and cheek pressed against the wall while Castiel drives into him from behind. Dean’s crying out with each thrust, and he’s loud as fuck. He often is, and tonight he sees no reason to try to hold back.

“You sound good like this,” Castiel pants.

Dean groans. “Well don’t get used to it, we’re both going to be living with our brothers.”

Castiel slows his thrusts considerably. “So I should be making this count.”

“By slowing down?!”

“I should draw it out… make it last.”

“No, no, no, keep doing what you were doing.”

“Hmmm.”

“Cas, make me fucking scream. Want people in the next _town_ to hear how good I’m getting it.”

Castiel pulls back slowly, and Dean shudders at the drag of the cock inside him while Castiel shifts slightly on his knees and grips Dean’s hips. “You ready?”

“For wha-”

Castiel slams back inside, and Dean cries out in surprise. Castiel sets up a brutal pace, fucking into Dean like a machine. It’s so fucking good Dean almost feels sick with the adrenaline as he digs his fingers into the wall, outright screaming when Castiel’s dick starts rubbing against his prostate. His fingertips hurt from clutching at the wall, his thighs feel like they’re on fire, and it’s out-fucking-standing.

“Cas, fuck, fucking, _yes,_ ” Dean moans.

Castiel wraps an arm around him, pulling until Dean’s back is against his chest. His thrusts slow some, but they’re still hard, still driving Dean out of his mind.

“You know I fucking love you, right?” Dean mutters. Castiel whimpers, and Dean can feel him shudder. “Fuck I’m gonna fucking come, Cas. Just from you fucking me, _fuck_.”

One of Castiel’s hands drags down across Dean’s chest, pinching at one of his nipples. Dean tenses. He’s right there, right there… the fingers give his nipple a small tug and Castiel bites down on his favored spot between Dean’s neck and shoulder.

Dean throws his head back, moaning loud as he comes hard, all over Castiel’s wall and pillows. “Fuck, _fuck_!” He vaguely registers the feel of arms tightening around him as Castiel stills, letting out a low groan as he comes.

They stay in position for several minutes, panting, winding down, returning to Earth, before Castiel speaks. “I can’t believe you got semen on my pillows.”

 


	19. Chapter 19

It’s close to three in the morning when they get back to Sam’s house. They come in through the back, stopping in their tracks when they enter the kitchen and see Sam at the fridge, fork in hand, clearly in the middle of eating leftover macaroni salad right out of the container.

“Were you raised in a _barn_?” Dean says.

“It’s _so_ good,” Sam says, practically moaning before he eats a massive forkful of the stuff.

“So get a bowl, don’t get your gross moose germs in the whole thing, what’s the matter with you?”

“Guess that means this is all mine then,” Sam says, mouth full of macaroni.

Castiel snorts. “I’m going to go find Ezekiel.”

“She’s with Jess, sleeping,” Sam says, still eating.

“You’re _sickening_ ,” Dean says.

Sam _finally_ finishes chewing. “Where’d you guys go?”

“To ah… get a few things for my cat,” Castiel says awkwardly. Smooth.

“Uh huh. That why your shirt is on inside-out?”

Castiel blushes, excusing himself and rushing up the stairs.

Dean grins. “Ain’t he adorable?”

“Must’ve had some good, chaste fun out there, that I don’t need to hear anything about,” Sam says.

“Actually, something pretty shitty happened. When we got to the apartment, there was an eviction notice taped to his door.”

“Wow, what the hell did he get kicked out for?”

“For having a cat. And uh… noise complaints.”

“And _I’m_ the gross one.”

“We might have expressed our pure and beautiful love a little too loudly.”

“Pure and beautiful love?”

“So he has like a month to get out, but he wants to get it over with sooner rather than later. He’s going to probably move in with Gabriel while he looks for a bigger place. And we were talking on the ride back about how Gabriel has big dogs that might not play well with a kitten…”

Sam’s eyes widen. He’s practically vibrating.

“So we were hoping that until Cas finds a place, which probably won’t take too long, maybe Ezekiel could stay here?”

“Yes!” Sam squeaks. “I mean I’ll talk to Jess, but yes! Of course! Anything for Cas!”

Dean chuckles, rolling his eyes. “He’s going to have to fight you to get that cat back, isn’t he.”

“I’m an _adult,_ Dean.”

“That statement would have so much more weight if I hadn’t just watched you talking with your mouth full of macaroni salad.”

Sam, ever the more mature brother, sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry at Dean.

 

***

 

“Dean.”

“Dean.”

“ _Dean._ ”

Dean groans, cracking an eye open and glaring at the blue eyed creature hovering over him. “Jeez, Cas! It’s only--” Dean looks over at the clock. “Okay it’s eleven-thirty. What’s up?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Wanna go make us some breakfast?”

“No, I want to go out for brunch. On a date.”

Dean grins, wrapping his arms around Castiel and pulling their bodies together. “You wanna go on a _date_? You wanna play footsie with me under the table while eating pancakes?”

“Waffles.”

“Well it’s a damn good idea. Let’s get showered and dressed, yeah?”

Castiel cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at Dean. “I _am_ showered and dressed. I woke up two hours ago. I’ve seen off Gabriel and your friends, played with Ezekiel, and watched part of a documentary on sharks with Sam.”

“Well, aren’t you productive?”

“Yes, now let’s produce a date.”

Dean groans, sitting up. “That didn’t even make sense.”

When Dean comes downstairs, Sam and Jess are on their way out the door. Something about a teaching workshop. Or was it lunch with Jess’ parents? It’s always something boring. Sam smiles and waves at Dean before closing the door behind him.

“So,” Dean says, walking over to the kitchen, “I think it’s time for some grub. What do you say? Denny’s? IHOP? Cas?”

Castiel is staring at something on the fridge, eyes wide.

“Hey,” Dean says, “you should grab like, forty bucks out of the jar, I think I’m going to pig out.” Castiel doesn’t move. “Cas? There a spider or something?” He stands next to Castiel, looking up at the fridge. His jaw drops, and he grabs Castiel’s nearest hand, squeezing it.

There’s even more money in the jar now, singles, fives, tens, twenties, even a couple hundreds shoved in there. Dean doesn’t even have to wonder who did it, because he can see several post-its jammed in as well, with what look to be suggestions for dates written on them, signed by people from the barbecue.

“Dean,” Castiel mutters.

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice cracks a little.

“You’re hurting my hand.”

Dean flexes his hand, releasing Castiel’s fingers and moving to grab the jar off the fridge. They dump it out on the kitchen table, looking through all the post-its.

“Couples massage! -Mom <3”

“GO TO A BED AND BREAKFAST IN ANOTHER STATE! -JO”

“A picnic. With a real basket and a checkered blanket! -Jess”

“I’m not playing this game. -Bobby”

“Dean I was talking to Cas & he hasn’t seen Back to the Future so you should probably fix that -Ash”

“Ballroom dancing class. It’s fun, I swear! -Ava”

“DEAN HAS NEVER HAD SUSHI, GO TO A SUSHI RESTAURANT -SAM”

“I think you should grab a handful of cash and go to the sex shop downtown and see what inspires you. You’re welcome. -Gabriel”

“PAINTBALL TRUST ME -Jake T.”

“Something that warrants a tuxedo. Then take photos. -Ellen”

“Don't listen to Ava. Take a pole dancing class. They have those for men too, you know. -Andy”

“I’m seconding paintball. -Benny”

“GO CAMPING -Benny”

There’s at least another four hundred dollars in the jar, and Dean feels so touched by the gesture he can’t help but let himself cry, just a little.

“They do know we have jobs to pay for our own dates, right?”

Dean snorts, stepping over to the counter to retrieve a paper towel.

“I’ve never felt so… supported before,” Castiel says, “I had Gabriel. And Balthazar sometimes. It’s odd having this amount of people take an interest.”

“All part of the Winchester Extended Family Package, my man.”

“Is that so?”

Dean stuffs the post-its in the pocket of his jeans and extracts forty dollars from the cash pile before returning the rest to the jar. “Do you think we have to actually take their suggestions?”

“Don’t you want to? Paintball sounds exciting.”

“What about the one that said _ballroom dancing,_ Cas,” Dean whines, setting the jar on the fridge and leading Castiel to the front door.

“I would not be averse to learning a new skill.”

“ _No._ Now let’s go eat pancakes and play footsie or whatever I said.”

 

***

 

The game of footsie at Denny’s quickly escalates to handjobs in the bathroom, which escalates to Dean and Castiel receiving a lifetime ban from that particular location.

 

***

 

Despite their original plans, the rest of the weekend is mostly spent at Castiel’s. Castiel’s given himself less than a week to move out, and had decided that he’d prefer to start on the packing now, rather than try to worry about it after work during the week. Dean doesn’t know why he’s in such a rush to move out if he has thirty days, but he assumes it has to do with Castiel not wanting to run into Gordon.

Castiel doesn’t have a massive amount of belongings, and by Sunday night he and Dean have a great deal of it packed. The rest of it Castiel intends to pack on Monday and Tuesday nights, then on Wednesday Dean and Ash will help him move after work, leaving Thursday and Friday to take down Castiel’s pictures and clean up.

“So,” Dean says, looking at the modest pile of boxes, “does Gabe even have room for all this?”

“Somewhat. It’s mostly going in his garage, I’ll be sleeping on the couch. Gabriel actually looked offended when I said we were too old to share his bed.”

“Aww, says who?”

“Says me.”

“You could have fun pillow fights!”

“I’ll pass. Maybe I’d have one with you, though. With feather pillows, like a pair of sorority girls in a movie.”

“In bras and panties?”

Castiel pauses in labeling his box of kitchenware. “I wouldn’t say no to that. We would need to make some purchases though.”

Dean bites his lower lip, staring at his hands. “I was joking.”

“Well, I’m not,” Castiel says, smiling when he looks over at Dean. “You’re blushing.”

“Shaddup.”

Castiel abandons his box of kitchenware, crowding Dean against the counter. There’s a look on his face that can only mean _very_ good things for Dean.

“I wonder what you’d look like in a full set of lingerie,” Castiel says.

“Wh- _what_?”

“We could purchase things. A lacy two-piece, or maybe a satiny negligee,” Castiel says, dragging his hands along Dean’s hips.

Dean lets out a shaky moan. “You’re serious.”

“Perhaps a pair of sheer stockings… some garters…”

Dean is swiftly making the journey toward being hard as a fucking rock. “I think I remember you telling me you didn’t have any kinks other than maybe biting.”

“Well I was terribly incorrect, wasn’t I? Because I definitely want to fuck you while you’re wearing lingerie,” Castiel says, undoing Dean’s pants and working a hand inside. “And stockings. Maybe even heels.”

“Jesus.”

“This is all your fault. You and your damned pink panties,” Castiel says. He’s leaning against Dean now, rasping in his ear and stroking Dean’s erection firmly.

Dean’s eyes have fluttered shut. “Should I apologize?”

Castiel plants gentle kisses along Dean’s neck, jacking Dean with his increasing amount of precome. Dean keeps waiting for Castiel to bite down, _needs_ him to bite down.

“It makes me wonder what other fetishes I might have laying dormant,” Castiel says, voice going lower, “just waiting for something to set them off.”

Castiel bites down finally, and Dean cries out, ecstatic. “Yes, fucking yes, right there!”

Dean has an almost permanent tender spot in that area between neck and shoulder at this point. He can’t get enough of the way his entire body shudders when Castiel starts nipping at that spot, soothing it with his tongue. He loves it, loves reaching into his collar the next day when he’s at work, and pressing down to feel just a slight amount of pain. He loves the way he can feel Castiel there, loves how it hurts a little. Right now the pain zings through him, making him feel warm and flushed and desperate.

He reaches out to grab Castiel’s forearm. “Cas, Cas stop.”

Castiel obeys immediately, pulling his hand away, and isn’t that amazing, the way he can switch gears so easily. “Are you alright?”

Dean’s outright panting. “Yeah, man… I just… want you.”

“In that case,” Castiel says, smiling, “we should probably lose some clothing.”

 

***

 

When Castiel starts to tear open a condom, Dean stops him, saying they don’t need it. 

“No,” Castiel says, trailing a finger down Dean’s cheek, “I suppose we don’t.”

 

***

 

It hits Dean on Wednesday, when nearly everything’s been moved to Gabriel’s and he’s picking up a box of books for the last truckload. He’s going to miss this dinky little apartment. He stares at all the calendar pages on the wall for a few minutes until Castiel comes in.

“Dean?”

“Hey. Thinking about how I’m going to miss this place.”

“You shouldn’t. When I get a new place, it’ll have a bigger kitchen, and I’ll cook for you all the time.”

Dean grins, turning away from the wall. “Really, now.”

Castiel picks up the box of books, walking to the door. “Yes, really. Sandwiches, casseroles, pot pies, homemade pizzas…”

“Stop, you’re gonna get me hard.”

“Mhmm,” Castiel mumbles, setting the box in the truck.

“Well, when Ash handed me the keys, he told me to wash any ‘love stains’ we leave. I’m assuming that was his way of urging me to fuck you in the back of his truck.”

Castiel looks at the filthy truck bed, then back at Dean. “I’m going to respectfully decline.”

Castiel closes and locks the door to the apartment. All that’s left is the cleanup. Dean had suggested Castiel just leave the mess, since he’d already lost his security deposit, and Castiel had stared at him all horrified and said “I can’t just leave a mess, Dean, I’m an _adult.”_

They climb into Ash’s truck and Dean starts it up. “I’ll miss it here, though. I mean we kind of fell in love in there, didn’t we?”

Castiel smiles fondly. “That’s true. The water pressure was terrible, though.”

 


	20. Chapter 20

SENT - 07/10/14 - 6:24pm - Sam put the cat condo and the litterbox in his room while I was at work.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:01pm - Really?

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:03pm - His reasoning was “OUR ROOM IS SO MUCH BIGGER DEAN”

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:16pm - He does have a point.

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:20pm - So? She’s MY boyfriend’s cat. She’s basically my step-cat, she should be in my room.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:21pm - You’re lonely.

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:24pm - Shut up, I’m not.

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:25pm - ok maybe I’m lonely

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:28pm - I miss you a little. We didn’t get our four day weekend together.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:30pm - I seem to recall spending four days with you.

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:32pm - PACKING. That doesn’t count.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:34pm - I’m not sure I agree. Any time spent with you is time that “counts”.

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:37pm - Oh sure make me sound like an ass.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:40pm - You don’t need me for that.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:40pm - :)

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:43pm - That was very rude, Novak.

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:46pm - If you weren’t at your brother’s, I’d be punishing you for that. Loudly.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:52pm - I’m not at Gabriel’s.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:53pm - I’m taking the staples out of the wall at the apartment.

SENT - 07/10/14 - 7:54pm - REALLY

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 7:59pm - Come punish me, Dean.

SENT - 07/10/14 - 8:01pm - fuck yeah you bet your fucking ass ill come punish you

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 8:02pm - Bring pillows.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 8:03pm - And a blanket.

RECEIVED - 07/10/14 - 8:03pm - There’s no bed.

SENT - 07/10/14 0 8:06pm - on my way

 

***

 

Dean shows up ready to punish Castiel, but somehow _he’s_ the one that ends up getting spanked.

 

***

 

RECEIVED - 07/12/14 - 1:23am - I hate living with Gabriel.

RECEIVED - 07/12/14 - 1:55am - His dogs do NOT want me to sleep.

RECEIVED - 07/12/14 - 2:03am - How dare you be asleep when I’m miserable.

SENT - 07/12/14 - 3:11am - sry 4 slping baby

SENT - 07/12/14 - 3:14am - got drunk w/ ash + benny til midnte then got trd bc im old

RECEIVED - 07/12/14 - 3:15am - You’re up now, then?

SENT - 07/12/14 - 3:17am - no had 2 pee so bad. im going back to sleep so sleepy

SENT - 07/12/14 - 3:20am - just unlocked front door make use of that info

 

***

 

Dean wakes hours later, smiling at the feel of Castiel wrapped around him from behind. This is how it should be every morning. He can’t wait until they’ve been together long enough for him to casually float the idea of moving in together. For now, being crammed together in Dean’s twin mattress is good enough.

He smiles as he feels Castiel stir. “Hey.”

“This is much better than Gabriel’s couch. With his dogs. And Gabriel had a _date_ last night. A very loud date.”

Dean pulls one of Castiel’s hands to his mouth, kissing it gently. “Maybe we should get you some earplugs.”

“I had some in, actually. I could still hear her.”

“Well maybe tonight we can go fuck on your brother’s couch while he’s trying to sleep.”

“That… doesn’t sound fun.”

“How about we clean up and go to breakfast, courtesy of The Jar?”

“Mmm, I like that idea.”

“Maybe get the classifieds and check for houses for rent.”

“Mmm, I like that idea too.”

“Then after that go fuck on your brother’s couch.”

“ _Dean._ ”

 

***

 

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 6:33pm - I found a great place.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 6:35pm - Two bedroom rental. Way farther from my shop, but it has a great kitchen.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 6:36pm - Cats allowed.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 6:38pm - Room for garden boxes in the backyard.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 6:40pm - Near the bus line if I don’t want to drive.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 6:41pm - It’s also three times more per month than my apartment, but I can afford it.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 6:43pm - I think I really want it.

SENT - 7/16/14 - 7:01pm - I feel like there’s a catch. What is it?

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 7:19pm - My move in date would be August 15th. I’d have to be at Gabe’s another MONTH.

SENT - 7/16/14 - 7:21pm - Ummmmmm. I believe in you?

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 7:25pm - He’s a horrible roommate, I don’t understand how I used to live with him.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 7:28pm - He is messy and loud and he eats the groceries I’ve labeled as mine.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 7:30pm - And I work with him, Dean. This is TOO MUCH GABRIEL.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 7:33pm - And it’s only been a week.

SENT - 7/16/14 - 7:40pm - The house sounds great, though.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 7:49pm - Is this you being helpful?

SENT - 7/16/14 - 7:50pm - <IMAGE ATTACHED> Ezekiel says hi.

SENT - 7/16/14 - 7:51pm - I AM being helpful. I’m saying this house sounds great, so you should tough it out.

SENT - 7/16/14 - 7:55pm - You know you can always come here when you’re fed up with Gabe for the day.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 7:57pm - If I came over every time I was fed up with Gabriel I’d be over every day.

Dean stares at his phone, absently petting Ezekiel with one hand. He wonders if a reply of “I don’t see a problem with that” would be overplaying his hand. Maybe it’s stupid, but Dean feels like he _knows_ Cas is it for him, that he’s not worried about moving too fast because he knows they’ll be okay. But Dean needs to not go overboard. They’re not teenagers, and Castiel might not be quite so… reckless.

Dean has been the aloof one in a lot of his relationships, but he recalls several years ago, a girl named Cassie Robinson. Dean was really, really into her, he wanted to hang out with her every day, and she hated it, told Dean he was smothering her. Then again, that was a long time ago. So far, being up front with Castiel has worked out in his favor. Maybe it’s safe to admit how he feels.

SENT - 7/16/14 - 8:14pm - You can come over whenever you want, however often you want. Just so you know. I wouldn’t care if you were here every day.

RECEIVED - 7/16/14 - 8:20pm - :) I think it’s bed time.

Dean frowns at his phone. “Bed time” at eight o’clock at night sounds like a pretty flimsy excuse to get out of a conversation. But it had a smiley face. A smiley face isn’t bad, right?

“I think I freaked him out,” Dean says to Ezekiel. She meows at him. “Yeah, well what do you know?”

He gets up and trudges downstairs, cradling Ezekiel in one hand. “Well, we’re going to watch Food Network, I’m sure there’s a good show on.” He plops down on the couch and flips on the TV, grinning when he sees there’s an episode of Cutthroat Kitchen playing. He sets Ezekiel in his lap. “Alright, now this show is pretty fun. It’s a cooking competition, but there are obstacles and shit.” Okay, Dean maybe feels like a huge loser talking to a cat. At least he isn’t in his sweatpants. Yet.

He’s worried that he spooked Castiel with his text, but he needs to trust that Castiel won’t make a big deal out of it. It was just a bit of an awkward exchange, nothing to be scared of.

The judge is in the middle of pronouncing the winner of the final round when the doorbell rings. Dean carries Ezekiel to the door with him. She’s comforting to hold, so sue him. He’s surprised and delighted to see Castiel when he opens the door, clad in a t-shirt, pajama bottoms, and slippers. Castiel steps inside and closes the door, then plucks Ezekiel out of Dean’s hands and sets her on the carpet.

“Oh,” Dean says slowly, “ _bedtime._ ”

 

***

 

SENT - 07/18/14 - 6:48pm - Are you busy tonight?

RECEIVED - 07/18/14 - 6:53pm - You’re at home, Gabriel is on a date, and Balthazar has been in Italy for weeks. How could I be busy?

SENT - 07/18/14 - 6:56pm - Well I don’t know you could have made new friends. Or be busy doing baker stuff.

RECEIVED - 07/18/14 - 7:00pm - I’m cleaning Gabriel’s microwave. It’s disgusting. :(

SENT - 07/18/14 - 7:03pm - Well I’m at Target with a wad of JAR money.

RECEIVED - 07/18/14 - 7:05pm - Oh really.

SENT - 07/18/14 - 7:06pm - YARLY

RECEIVED - 07/18/14 - 7:09pm - Yarly??

RECEIVED - 07/18/14 - 7:10pm - What does that mean?

SENT - 07/18/14 - 7:10pm - LOL

SENT - 07/18/14 - 7:11pm - Not important. What IS important is that I’m in the process of buying popcorn and BTTF.

RECEIVED - 07/18/14 - 7:12pm - BTTF?

SENT - 07/18/14 - 7:14pm - Back to the Future! I’m getting a DVD boxset.

RECEIVED - 07/18/14 - 7:17pm - Aww, you’re taking suggestions from the post-its.

SENT - 07/18/14 - 7:18pm - Don’t think this means I’m going ballroom dancing, Cas.

SENT - 07/18/14 - 7:20pm - Anyway start driving over, because I’m going to check out in a minute instead of just wandering around the store texting you.

RECEIVED - 07/18/14 - 7:23pm - Well, if you INSIST.

 

***

 

They’re cuddled up on Sam’s couch, almost to the end of the first movie when Sam and Jess come in.

“Sweet,” Sam says, “Back to the Future!”

“Shh,” Dean says, waving at them, “we’re having a date.”

“Uh huh. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Dean groans. “Fine. Jess, take my place.”

Jess plops down in Dean’s spot as he gets up and cuddles against Castiel. “Sweet! Hope I get lucky tonight.”

Dean follows Sam upstairs, rolling his eyes when Sam goes straight for his room to pick up Ezekiel. “You know you have to give her back when Cas gets his new place, right?”

“Cork it,” Sam says, petting Ezekiel. His expression turns uncomfortable. “So… Jess and I were at the mall… and we ran into Dad.”

“What the hell was he doing in a _mall_?”

“I think they sell his Grizzled Old Man Cologne there.”

“Ah yes, Eau De Flannel.”

Sam chuckles, then looks down at the purring kitten in his arms. “Anyway, he wants to uh… see you.”

“He wants to see me.”

“Yeah, he asked me to ask you to call him, or come see him.”

“For what?”

“To talk? I don’t know, he’s been in homophobia therapy or whatever, right?”

Dean sighs. “I’m… I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I mean… look I’m glad he’s in therapy for being a total douche, but… I had to ‘unrepress’ some serious shit recently, and I’m not ready to deal with him again… not yet. What he did when he found me with Victor, that cut deep.”

Sam holds out Ezekiel, and Dean takes her, cuddling her to his face. “Such a useful cat.”

“I’m on your side, Dean. If you don’t want to talk to Dad, if you’re not ready, that’s good enough for me. Dad’s old enough to deal with the consequences of his actions. I just thought I should pass the message along. Now hand me back the cat.”

“Is Jess jealous of the amount of attention you’re giving this cat?” Dean grumbles, handing Ezekiel back.

“Only because she says I’m hogging her.”

“You _are_ hogging her.”

“She’s so cute…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

***

 

“I’m confused.”

Dean looks away from the movie and over at Castiel. “About what?”

“If Doctor Brown--”

“Doc.”

“What?”

“Call him Doc.”

“If _Doc_ was so invested in changing Marty’s future, why wouldn’t he warn him about the Rolls Royce?”

“Uh…”

“I mean, he claimed no one should know too much about their own destiny, but then he lets Marty know about his future wife and children.”

“Um…”

“Since he clearly has no regard for maintaining the timeline, he should have just warned Marty that worrying about what others think of him would be his downfall. It would have made more sense than having Marty impersonate his son for an event that wouldn’t even happen if Doc warned him about the Rolls Royce.”

“I don’t uh…”

“And in the second movie, how did Biff return the DeLorean?”

“What?”

“Doc said that Biff created an alternate timeline with his journey into the past, right?”

“Yeah?”

“So when Biff went back to the future--” Dean snorts, and Castiel ignores him. “It should have been to the future in the alternate timeline that he created, not the original future. Right?”

Dean sighs. “I take it you didn’t like the movies?”

“What makes you think that? They’re very fun.” When Dean narrows his eyes, Castiel continues. “I don’t think a few flaws mar what is otherwise a very entertaining series of films.”

“God, you’re fucking weird.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Castiel grabs a couch cushion. “Am not!”

Dean grabs a cushion as well. “Are too!”

A battle ensues then, the two of them running around beating each other with decorative pillows. It’s a little more brutal than the pillow fights Dean had as a kid, then again they are grown-ass men. They battle each other throughout the living room, not stopping until they realize Jess is recording them with her phone.

“May we help you?” Dean says, clutching his pillow and edging away from Castiel.

“Just recording on the off chance you two start having sex and I can sell this to a porn site.”

“JESS!”

“Come now, Jessica,” Castiel says, walking over. He plucks her phone out of her hand, rotates it ninety degrees, then puts it back in her palm. “You’ll get a much higher quality video if you film horizontally.”

Jess ends up getting a pretty great video of Dean and Castiel chasing her around the house with their pillows.

 


	21. Chapter 21

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 11:18am - Balthazar has returned to Lawrence. He’d like to meet you.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 11:57am - Holy shit, I’m going to meet one of your friends?

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 12:13pm - Balthazar is my ONLY friend.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 12:19pm - Hey, none of that. I’m your friend. So are Sam and Jess.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 12:30pm - :)

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 12:32pm - My only friend that I knew prior to this year.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 12:36pm - You have your shop employees?

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 1:06pm - I’ve never seen them socially.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 1:07pm - I believe I might be a homebody.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 1:19pm - Same here, baby.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 1:27pm - Anyway back to Balthazor.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 1:27pm - Balthazar*

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 1:42pm - He’d like to take us out tonight. For sushi.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 1:44pm - SUSHI?!

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:00pm - I was telling him about the post-its with the suggestions, and he said sushi sounded like a great idea.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:01pm - And then suddenly I’d made dinner plans.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:02pm - The conversation kind of got away from me.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 2:06pm - Well hey, I’m game. Especially if he’s paying.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:19pm - I suppose I should warn you that Balthazar is a bit of an acquired taste.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 2:36pm - Sounds promising.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:39pm - He can be crass.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:39pm - And pretentious.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:40pm - Flakey.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:40pm - Selfish and bossy.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 2:42pm - This is your FRIEND right?

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:44pm - I’m just warning you.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:47pm - I knew him long before we dated and none of my past boyfriends have liked him. My employees find him somewhat off-putting.

RECEIVED - 07/22/14 - 2:48pm - Gabriel of course loves him.

SENT - 07/22/14 - 3:18pm - Hey, I’m sure I’ll like him. Don’t worry.

 

***

 

Dean does _not_ like Balthazar. Balthazar, although he picked the time and place for dinner, manages to be over forty-five minutes late. Balthazar, instead of saying hello like a _normal_ person, looks Dean over and says, “So this is the boy you let pop your cherry? He’s in _plaid,_ Cassie.”

Balthazar wears a v-neck.

Balthazar has a very haughty accent.

Balthazar makes fun of Dean when he tries the sushi and doesn’t like it.

Balthazar calls Dean disgusting when Dean starts angrily shoving more sushi in his mouth.

Even with Dean’s mouth full of sushi, Balthazar has been very obviously undressing Dean with his eyes since he arrived.

“Dean,” Castiel says, “you don’t need to eat that if you don’t like it.”

“It’s _fine,_ ” Dean says, mouth still half full of rice.

“You simply must share the name of your finishing school,” Balthazar says, smirking into his drink.

Dean swallows the rest of his bite. “You ever been stabbed with chopsticks, Balthazar?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“I was about… I want to say twenty-five, on a date with a lovely girl. Halfway through our meal she told me she knew I’d been screwing her boyfriend, and then she stabbed me in the thigh. They were high quality sticks, too. Didn’t even break.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Wait, so she was cheating on him, and was mad you were cheating on her?”

“Yes, Lilith was _quite_ a live wire. She’s a dental hygienist, they’re _wild,_ you know.”

Dean looks over at Castiel. By the disinterested look on his face, Dean’s guessing Castiel has heard this story a few times. “Did you press charges?”

“Are you kidding? And waste all that _passion_?”

Castiel sighs.

“So, what did you do?”

Balthazar leers. “I organized a ménage à trois with Lilith and Azazel!”

“Of course you did.”

“They’re still together to this day, you know. Somehow I made them realize they wanted to be together forever.”

“Sounds crazy.”

“The hot ones often are.”

“That’s for sure. I dated this woman Josie… she liked her boyfriends to call her _Abaddon…_ anyway when I broke up with her, she keyed my Impala.”

“Impala? You mean that _gorgeous_ black beast of a car out front is yours?”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

“And she _keyed_ it?”

“In huge symbols. My brother told me they were letters in an angelic language. Enochian. She carved them all along the driver’s side.”

“That’s barbaric!”

“Dude, I _cried_.”

“What did the letters say?”

Dean sighs. “They said ‘you breed with the mouth of a goat’.”

Castiel drops his chopsticks, laughing harder than Dean’s ever heard him. He actually _snorts_ in between hysterical giggles, and some people around them turn to look at the source of the sudden burst of noise. Balthazar and Dean both stare at him, shooting each other surprised looks.

When the laughter finally subsides, Castiel wipes his eyes with a napkin, looking back and forth between Dean and Balthazar with a small smile on his face. “What?”

“What in the bloody hell was that?” Balthazar says, gesturing at Castiel.

“Laughter. Did you not think that was funny?”

“I didn’t think it was _that_ funny.”

Dean shrugs, drinking from his glass of water. “Maybe it’s funnier in Enochian.”

 

***

 

Now that Dean and Balthazar have bonded over cars and women, the evening goes much more smoothly. Balthazar doesn’t even make fun of Dean for picking all the raw fish out of his sushi. Dean can easily see why Balthazar and Gabriel would get along, but it’s harder to understand how he and Castiel ended up as friends. Outside of weird names, they don’t seem to have much in common.

“So how did you two become boyfriends and all that?”

“Well we were friends first,” Castiel says.

“And then boyfriends,” Balthazar says.

“And then friends again.”

“We met when Cassie was learning to cook.”

“Oh, you cook?”

“Well,” Balthazar starts, but Castiel cuts him off.

“He was in one of my cooking classes, one of the first ones. He was there to meet women.”

Balthazar scoffs. “Come now, Cassie. I was there to meet men as well.”

“He hit on every woman in the class.”

“That I did.”

“And when none of them were interested, he turned his attention to me.”

Balthazar is leering again. “That I did.”

“And I told him I didn’t appreciate being his eleventh choice and wouldn’t be going on a date with him.”

Balthazar sighs. “That he did.”

Dean snickers. “Oh, really. Did he move on to the next guy, then?”

“None of the others were cute enough,” Balthazar says, pouting.

“Yes, I wasn’t only eleventh place, I was _last_ place.”

“Cassie, it’s been years now, it might be time to let that go.”

Dean takes Castiel’s hand. “I bet you were the prettiest one there, Cas.”

“Well he seemed quite frigid,” Balthazar says, “but after so many other rejections I figured one more wouldn’t hurt.”

Castiel glares. “You’re appalling.”

“Now there’s something that’s hard to visualize,” Dean muses.

“What?” Balthazar asks, picking at his sushi.

“Cas being frigid.”

“Well now, I know he’s not actually frigid, just my knee-jerk impression. I’m much more mature and understanding now.”

“Mature?” Castiel grumbles. “Maybe physically.”

Balthazar puts a hand over his heart, looking over at Dean in mock anguish. “You hear how he talks to me? It’s that strong dislike that made me realize we simply _had_ to be friends.”

“Balthazar is a bit of a masochist,” Castiel says.

“Perhaps I got a good look at you and foresaw years of begrudging friendship. Because I love a challenge, and you--”

“Suck at making new friends.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Super touching story, wow.”

“Honestly, though,” Balthazar says. “Cassie really is a lovely man.”

“He sure is,” Dean says, nodding, “and he is a _firecracker_ in bed.”

Balthazar chokes on his drink, and Dean grins.

“Have you forgotten I’m right here?” Castiel groans, staring at the ceiling and seeming to implore the heavens.

Dean smirks at Castiel. “It’s like getting fucked by a hurricane.”

“Dean!”

“One minute it’s all quiet, the next minute all hell has broken loose.”

“Really? This guy right here?” Balthazar says, looking over at Castiel with raised eyebrows.

Castiel sighs. “You are a _dreadful_ influence on each other, good God. Considering how much you whined when your friends inquired about our sex life, Dean, I’d think you’d be less interested in volunteering details.”

“That’s different,” Dean says.

“How?”

“Well he’s not a friend, I just met him!”

Dean and Balthazar both laugh as Castiel grows more and more annoyed. “Absolutely dreadful influence.”

 

***

 

When the night is over, and Dean and Castiel are cuddled together in Dean’s bed, Dean pokes at Castiel’s sides, smiling. “That wasn’t so bad, huh?”

“I’m glad you found some things to bond over. For the first portion of the dinner, I was certain you were going to throw your drink in his face.”

“Only my love for you held me back.”

“I would have understood.”

“Well next time, I’ll throw my drink in his face.”

“It keeps him grounded.”

“Bitch about him all you want, Cas. I can see that you have a downright familial love for him.”

“Well don’t go telling _him_ that. I wouldn’t want his head getting any bigger.”

“You’re adorable,” Dean says, moving in for a kiss.

“Hush.”


	22. Chapter 22

RECEIVED - 07/25/14 - 4:13pm - Well, I’ll be over kind of late tonight.

RECEIVED - 07/25/14 - 4:15pm - I called a customer to let them know that their two dozen cupcakes were ready.

RECEIVED - 07/25/14 - 4:16pm - Gabriel wrote the order down wrong. They need two HUNDRED, not two dozen.

SENT - 07/25/14 - 4:20pm - Wow, good old Gabe. Need some help?

RECEIVED - 07/25/14 - 4:28pm - I wish. But legally I can’t have you helping me. You don’t have any food handling certification.

SENT - 07/25/14 - 4:31pm - :(

SENT - 07/25/14 - 4:32pm - I know what will help!

RECEIVED - 07/25/14 - 4:44pm - Oh, really?

SENT - 07/25/14 - 4:58pm - I’m going to head to the store and get stuff to make bacon cheeseburgers. Then I’m going to bring you one.

SENT - 07/25/14 - 4:59pm - I’ll even use Sam’s dinky grill to cook them.

RECEIVED - 07/25/14 - 5:04pm - I am VERY much in favor of this.

SENT - 07/25/14 - 5:10pm - Thought you might be. I’ll see you in a couple hours.

 

***

 

Dean ends up making six bacon cheeseburgers, and because he’s so generous, he gives one each to Sam and Jess. He packs the buns and toppings into separate sandwich bags so he can assemble them at the shop, grabs a bag of chips and his foil-wrapped burger patties, and heads out.

Of the two of them, Castiel is by far the superior cook, so he’s usually the one in the kitchen, but Dean is happy to make something for him for once. In fact, it feels so good Dean is considering learning to make things other than what he can slap onto a grill.

It’s after seven when Dean gets to the shop. It’s closed, but the door is unlocked for him. He goes inside, setting his bag of food on one of the tables, then he goes over to the counter.

“Service!” Dean yells. “I’d like some service please!”

Dean bites his lip, trying not to laugh at the sound of Castiel dropping something hollow and plastic sounding, then cursing. “Just a minute.”

After about two minutes Castiel comes out front, smiling broadly at Dean and holding two empty plates.

“Well it’s about time,” Dean says with a faux air of self importance, “I’m very offended by this service. The owner is a dear, personal friend of mine and he’ll be hearing about this!”

“Oh goodness, please don’t tell the owner! I’ll lose my job! Please, I’ll do anything!”

“ _Anything,_ huh?” Dean says with a leer. He snorts, dropping the act before they end up fucking in Dean’s car while the burgers get cold. “How are the cupcakes coming?”

“I’ve got the last batch cooking, but I haven’t frosted any of them yet,” Castiel says, following Dean to the table.

“You got Gabe back there helping you?”

“Gabriel is off with the lovely Kali for a night of… something. He outright begged me not to make him cancel his date, and I relented. Gabriel’s been trying to get her to see him again ever since he burned her eyebrows off, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that.”

“And you didn’t even record him begging so I could watch and laugh? That hurts. Maybe I don’t want to share any of my _four_ bacon cheeseburgers with you now.”

“Hey, now. I’m going to need some fuel so I can properly frost the one hundred seventy-six cupcakes waiting in the back.”

“Jesus fuck.”

“Well, one hundred eighty-six. Always make a few extra in case of mistakes. They’re for a rather large going away party being held tomorrow. I’m relieved I got the order done early. If I’d discovered the error tommorrow, I would have never been able to finish them in time.”

Dean reaches into the plastic grocery bag holding their dinner. “Your reputation would have been tarnished for sure.”

“Hey, reviews and repeat customers _are_ important. I’ll be right back. You keep doing what you’re doing, I’m so hungry.”

When Dean unwraps the foil with the patties inside, he grins. They’re still quite warm and they smell wonderful. Dean can’t wait to get one of them in his mouth. He quickly assembles the burgers, adding cheese, bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes. They’re not the awesome heirloom tomatoes that Castiel made him get for the barbecue, but they’ll do. He adds a small pile of chips to each plate, and then stands back, proudly surveying his work.

“You look pleased,” Castiel says.

“I do fucking _love_ me a burger,” Dean says. He turns to face Castiel, grinning at the two large glasses in Castiel’s hands. “Are those milkshakes?!”

“I made them a bit ago, I thought they’d go well with the burgers. I hope chocolate is alright.”

“You bet your sweet fucking ass it is!”

“Those smell _amazing,_ ” Castiel says, setting the glasses down on the table.

“Shall we?”

They sit across from each other in one of the booths, and the first thing Castiel does is take a large bite of his burger, moaning as he chews. Dean pauses in bringing his own burger to his mouth, staring at Castiel.

“I think you made that exact noise the last time I had your dick in my mouth.”

Castiel finishes chewing, and smiles. “These make me _very_ happy.”

The burgers are delicious, and having the amazing milkshake to wash it down makes the meal almost perfect. The only bad part is knowing that after this Castiel has to go back to working on his cupcakes instead of maybe fucking Dean in the Impala.

“So, how long do you think the frosting will take?”

“Probably a few hours. The design involves roses, and I have to do nearly two hundred,” Castiel says. He shrugs. “But I need to get it done tonight, so that’s that.”

“It sucks that I can’t help.”

Castiel chuckles. “Maybe you should get that food handler’s certification for the next time Gabriel botches an order.”

“Ooh, so if I came and helped out you’d be like… my boss?”

“Well, not real-- yes. I believe I would be your boss.”

Dean grins. “And I’d have to do what you told me.”

Castiel takes a long sip of his milkshake. “Yes.”

“I’d have to obey every order… even if it was inappropriate?”

Castiel gulps. “Yes.”

“You know the little office you have in the back?”

“Yes?”

“Maybe we should go in there for a sec.”

Castiel is nodding frantically, covering his uneaten burger with the foil. “Yes.”

 

***

 

As Dean kneels in front of Castiel’s office chair, with Castiel’s cock practically shoved down his throat, he can’t help but think that he was right; this is the _exact_ same sound Castiel was making when he ate that burger.

 

***

 

SENT - 07/31/14 - 12:51pm - Got a surprise for you.

RECEIVED - 07/31/14 - 1:01pm - What is it?

SENT - 07/31/14 - 1:03pm - I don’t think you understand what a surprise is.

SENT - 07/31/14 - 1:03pm - Gotta wait until you get off work!

RECEIVED - 07/31/14 - 1:07pm - Well why did you tell me NOW?

SENT - 07/31/14 - 1:08pm - Building anticipation.

RECEIVED - 07/31/14 - 1:09pm - Dick.

Dean’s pretty sure that’s the first time Castiel’s called him a dick. He laughs so hard he knocks over his soda. The rest of his lunch tastes like Pepsi.

 

***

 

Castiel arrives after work, and Dean watches from the couch as he lets himself in, looking uncomfortable. “Doing okay?”

“I always feel like an intruder when I walk in like this.”

“But I’m expecting you.”

“It still feels… impolite,” Castiel says, plopping onto the couch next to Dean.

“Dude, you’re my boyfriend. You’re invited over. You’re allowed to let yourself in.”

Castiel glares. “Yes, yes. It’s just that you’re not the only one who lives here, and--”

Dean snorts. “Sam and Jess don’t care, I promise. It’s not like you’re going to walk in on them going at it on the couch.”

“Yeah, I wish I could say the same about _you guys,_ ” Sam says, walking in from the kitchen.

“Come on, it’s been _weeks_ since anyone saw us fucking,” Dean says. “Well, that we know of.”

Castiel looks affronted. “Dean!”

“Sorry,” Dean says, “I mean it’s been weeks since anyone saw us _making love._ ”

Sam shakes his head. “Did you tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Castiel looks back and forth between Sam and Dean.

“No, go away! He _just_ got here!” Dean says, flicking at Sam’s arm.

“Touchy, touchy,” Sam mutters, walking back to the kitchen.

“Tell me what?”

“Your surprise! Okay. So, I’m hoping you’ll find this touching, and not an overstep…”

Castiel raises his eyebrows. “Go on.”

“I booked us a uh… a room. At a bed and breakfast. In Colorado. For this weekend. We leave tomorrow. I already got your weekend crew to agree to cover on Friday.” Dean smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

A few seconds pass before Castiel’s face breaks into a huge, beautiful grin. “You planned a romantic getaway.”

Dean blushes. “I did.”

“You took one of the post-it suggestions.”

“I did.”

“There’s no reason to look embarrassed, Dean. I think this is wonderful.”

“Yeah?”

Castiel takes Dean’s face in his hands, bringing their lips together gently. “Yeah.” Castiel kisses him again, licking at Dean’s lips until they part.

“Hey, _hey_ , come on now,” Sam says. When the hell did he come back in?

Dean pulls away. “Damn it, Sammy.”

“You have a _room_ , you know. So you told him?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Well, Cas, let me be the first to warn you. It’s an eight hour car ride and Dean is going to want to listen to the same five albums over and over. On cassette,” Sam says.

Dean glares at Sam. So what, he knows what he likes, there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s not sure if he’s ever played any music with Castiel in the car. They tend to just talk, or ride in companionable silence to their destination. Shit. Does Castiel know about Dean’s love of classic rock? Has that come up before? What if he hates Dean’s taste in music?!

“Dean?”

Dean blinks, looking at Castiel who’s smiling a little uncertainly. “Y-yeah?”

“I asked if I get to bring any tapes for the ride.”

“Pft,” Sam says, “good luck. Dean has this _rule._ Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his c--”

“Of course, Cas,” Dean says.

Sam makes an odd choking sound, staggering around the room and clutching at his heart. With a flourish he drops to the floor, eyes fluttering closed and tongue hanging out.

Dean glares, chucking a couch cushion at his stupid open mouth. “Dick.”

Sam tucks the pillow under his head, peering up at Dean from the floor. “I’m just shocked as fuck, man.”

“I feel a bit out of the loop here,” Castiel says.

“Dean’s a total nutbar about letting people play anything but _his_ music in that car.”

“Well I’m growing as a person, Sam,” Dean says. He looks over at Castiel. “Do you even have any tapes?”

“I have some, a few mementos of my youth.”

“What’s on ‘em?”

Castiel cocks his head to the side. “I think I’ll let you find out tomorrow.” He kisses Dean, then gets to his feet. "I’m going to go back to Gabriel’s and pack a bag for the weekend. Shall I pick up some dinner on the way back?"

Dean grins. “You spoil me.”

“That explains the smell,” Sam says, making a loud ‘oof!’ sound as he takes another pillow to the face.

“Any preference?” Castiel says.

“Something greasy.”

“Delicious grease, hmm? My poor arteries,” Castiel says. He ruffles Dean’s hair on his way out.

Sam grins at Dean once the door is closed. “That was just so _cute_.”

“Eat me.”

“I hope his tapes are all Michael Bolton and Kenny G.”

Dean shudders. “Bite your tongue, Sammy.”

“And Yanni!”

“ _I will drop this couch on you_.”

 


	23. Interlude: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the first of four chapters that I'm calling an "interlude". It was pointed out by... pretty much everyone that proofread this fic that this part of the story has a different feel from the rest and doesn't quite fit. It wasn't something I noticed until they did, honestly. Not really a big deal in my opinion, maybe just a little... goofier than the rest of the fic. Anyway, I wasn't really prepared to cut 13,000 words out of my story, so now the chapters have this awkward disclaimer instead. :D Sorry?

On Friday morning they settle in the car together, fully rested, bellies full of a breakfast made by Sam and Jess, and a wad of cash from the jar in Dean’s pocket.

Dean starts up the car, and looks over at a grinning Castiel. “You look excited.”

“I’ve never been to Colorado before.”

“Me neither,” Dean says, pulling out of the driveway and away from the house. “Do you think we should have grabbed some weed money?”

Castiel chuckles. “Perhaps. But I’m sure Gabriel could spare some for you when we get back if you’re desperate for a hit.”

“Really? He smokes pot?”

“Not often. But he always has some ‘in case the mood strikes’.”

“What a _deviant_.”

“Oh, yes.”

“What about you? Ever smoked pot?”

“A few times, when I was still dating Crowley. I wasn’t particularly good at it. There was a lot of coughing whenever I tried.”

“Well ain’t that cute.”

“And you?”

Dean shrugs. “If someone offers, I guess I’ll have a smoke now and again, but it doesn’t come up much. Sammy, though. He won’t touch the stuff. When he was in college, someone gave him a joint, and I guess it was laced with some heavy shit, because Sam had a _bad_ trip.”

“Oh, dear.”

“His friends had to call me to come calm him down, he thought he was a demon named Meg, and wanted an exorcism.”

Castiel snorts. “I used to know a woman named Meg. Very volatile.”

Dean glances over. “She hot?”

“Back to the story, Dean.”

“So by the time I showed up, his friends had him tied to a chair.”

“Tied to a _chair_?”

“Well they all smoked the same shit Sam did. No one was thinking all that rationally, it’s a miracle someone had enough brain cells working to even call me.”

“So what did you do?”

“Well I untied Sammy, and then I rounded up all the crazy fucks in the living room of… whoever’s house that was. There was a guitar against one of the walls, and I played it and sang Christmas songs to them until they fell asleep.”

“Are you serious?”

“They all sat on the floor staring up at me like a bunch of kindergarteners at story time. One of the weirdest fucking nights of my life. Anyway, Sammy never smoked pot again. He still gets embarrassed if I hum a few bars of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”

“Why Christmas songs?”

“It was December! Anyway my one regret about that night is that I never took pictures of Sam and his buddies staring at me like I invented music. Jess was one of them too. A photo like that would have made a _great_ wedding gift.”

“So, when am I going to hear you sing?”

Dean can feel himself blushing. “I don’t uh… sing often. Around people.”

“Aww,” Castiel says.

“But if you stick around long enough, I’m sure you’ll hear me at some point.”

“Well I guess I’d better not go anywhere, then.”

Dean bites his lower lip, trying not to grin like a lunatic. “So, speaking of music, what did you bring to listen to?”

“Ah, relationship test time.”

“It’s not a _test_ , it’s a thing for me to get to know you better.”

“Sure it is,” Castiel says, reaching into his pockets. He pulls out a few tapes.

They’re at a red light, so Dean looks over to see what they are. “Sweet mother of God, it’s classical music.”

Castiel reaches for the tape deck. “Yes.”

Dean tries to block Castiel with his hand. “Hey, hey!”

“What?”

“You can’t put that in my baby!”

Castiel goes silent for a long moment. “This is the issue Sam was referring to.”

“It’s just…” Dean is interrupted by a car behind him honking; the light is green.

“You have things you like a particular way,” Castiel offers.

“Yeah.”

“You are a creature of habit in many ways, and certain routines are important and comforting to you.”

“Yeah.”

“Tough shit, Dean.” With that, Castiel pushes one of the tapes into the deck. Dean stares briefly at the tape deck, for some reason he’s very shocked by the action. He clenches his hands on the steering wheel and stares out the front window, jaw tight as the tape starts to play.

“Cas.”

“Yes, Dean?”

“I want to fuck you _so_ bad right now.”

Dean sees Castiel’s head whip around to face him, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

 

***

 

Colorado is different, that’s for sure. It shouldn’t be, it’s right next to Kansas, but the air smells different. Cottonwood trees fade to blue spruce, hills give way to mountains, and nearly all the cars on the road have Colorado license plates. It’s exciting. Dean’s somewhere new, he’s with his awesome boyfriend, and apparently cello music isn’t so bad. Dean’s not going to admit that out loud, though.

Castiel turns down the volume on the third tape. “I meant to ask, what made you decide on Colorado?”

“Actually, that was Benny’s idea. I told him I wanted to do the B and B thing, and Benny told me he went to a place with an old girlfriend that he loved, and he gave me a business card, and I figured why not? I made sure not to reserve the same room he stayed in, though. I don’t want to be eskimo brothers with a bed or anything.”

“Eskimo brothers?”

“Uh, nevermind.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“We’re here!”

Castiel looks out the window. “No we’re not.”

“Okay, fine. Eskimo brothers are two guys that fucked the same person.”

“Oh that’s _charming._ ”

“Dude, you asked.”

“So that means you don’t want to have sex in the same bed that your friend did?”

“Well, yeah?”

“But surely _someone_ must have had sex in the bed we’ll be using.”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t know what they look like.”

“Yes, but--”

“It’s just kind of weird!”

“I… suppose,” Castiel says slowly.

“You wouldn’t want to have sex on a bed Gabriel had sex on, right?”

Castiel makes a disgusted grunt. “Gabriel is my brother. And he’s appalling.”

“Uh huh.”

Castiel sighs, turning the music back up. “ _Fine._ ”

“You’re so fucking cute.”

 

***

 

Hammond House is beautiful, an imposing three story Victorian house in the center of a well maintained lawn, hedges, and rose bushes. The grounds are surrounded by dense forest on three sides, and Dean can make out a small cabin behind the house, painted to blend in better with the trees. All told, it looks… lovely. There’s a car parked near the edge of the lawn, so Dean parks next to it, killing the engine.

“So, here we are,” Dean says, “a bed and breakfast.”

“Are you nervous or something?”

“No, I’m not _nervous,_ you dick. I’m taking a moment.”

“A moment?”

“What, you can take moments, but I can’t?”

“I didn’t know you _took moments_.”

“Okay, moment’s over, out.”

“No, come on. Take your moment, Dean.”

“No, you _ruined_ it.”

Castiel unbuckles his seat belt and leans over to kiss Dean. “I’ll make it up to you later, my love.”

Dean can feel his cheeks heating at "my love", and he clambers out of the car to head up the stone lined path to the house.

A woman opens the front door right as Dean and Castiel reach the front steps. She’s young and friendly looking, with long hair and a big smile. “Welcome to Millstone City!”

Her enthusiasm throws Dean off, but he smiles. “Hey there. I’m Dean Winchester, this is Castiel Novak.”

“Hello! I’m Becky Hammond, my husband is the owner of this property, but he’s out on a supply run. So! If you’ll show my stepson here to your bags, we’ll get you checked in?”

Dean startles when he realizes there’s a man in the doorway. The man is tall, almost as tall as Sam, even. He isn’t friendly looking at all.

“Here’s my stepson now,” Becky says.

Stepson? This guy looks older than Becky. How old is the husband, then?

“Dean,” Becky says, pulling on Castiel’s arm, “why don’t you show Gadreel to your bags, and Castiel and I will get you two checked in!”

The man, Gadreel, looks at Dean expectantly. After a few long seconds Dean finally realizes he’s waiting for the bags. “Dude, don’t worry, we don’t have much. I can carry the bags.”

“This is a part of my job, Mr. Winchester,” Gadreel says, nodding his head toward the car.

“Uh… alright.” Dean leads Gadreel to the Impala and opens the trunk, grinning awkwardly to the bags inside. “So that’s… our stuff.”

Gadreel nods and grabs the bags, then marches back toward the house.

“Weird,” Dean mumbles.

When they get inside, Gadreel goes up the stairs with their bags without a word. Castiel and Becky are at a table in the front room, going over some paperwork. Becky keeps staring at Castiel like he’s a giant candy bar, and Dean narrows his eyes as he approaches them.

He’s about to make a snarky comment to them when he looks around the room. Jesus, did someone’s grandmother design this place? The chairs, the sofa, the wallpaper, all covered in a tacky floral pattern that Dean assumes was popular about forty years ago. There are cat statues… _ugly_ cat statues… on nearly every available surface, and there are _doilies_. Jesus fucking Christ, why the hell did Benny like this place so much?

Becky and Castiel notice Dean, and Becky waves him over enthusiastically. “I was just informing Castiel that we’ve hit a bit of a snag.”

“A snag?”

“Yes, the en suite bathroom for the room you reserved is out of service.”

“Aw,” Dean says, pouting, “the Alpine Room sounded so cool. What else is there?”

“Well, there’s the Rose Room, but you two are a couple and the Rose Room has twin beds. There’s the Chestnut Room, and there’s the Hammond Room. That was designed by Marv-- that’s my husband-- Marv’s mother. They both have a king sized bed.”

“Hammond Room sounds good,” Dean says absently. Wait, did he just agree to a room designed by an old lady?

Becky nods and smiles. “Great!” She then bellows, causing Castiel to jump away from her slightly. “GADREEL!”

“YES, STEPMOTHER?” Gadreel shouts from upstairs.

“TAKE THEIR BAGS TO THE HAMMOND ROOM!”

“YES, STEPMOTHER!”

Becky smiles at Dean. “I think you’ll like the Hammond Room. Mother Hammond had a very keen eye for design, God rest her soul. She even decorated the room we’re in now!”

Oh, Jesus. The Hammond Room is going to be hideous.

“It’s… very welcoming,” Castiel says, looking around the floral nightmare of the sitting room.

Becky beams at him. “Isn’t it?” She continues smiling at Castiel, sighing softly. She’s downright gazing at him, even.

A full minute passes before Dean clears his throat awkwardly. “So, our room?”

Becky turns to smile at Dean. “Oh, very soon. Gadreel is making sure everything is in working order. He’s such a good boy.”

A good _boy_? Gadreel looks like he’s pushing forty, but okay.

“He should be done soon, why don’t I give you a quick tour?” Becky suggests cheerfully. She turns without waiting for an answer, exiting the room in a swish of dirty blonde hair. Dean and Castiel stare at each other before reluctantly following her.

Becky pauses, gesturing to the room they just vacated. “So that’s the sitting room. There are board games and cards in that big cabinet by the window. We don’t have a television in this house, but I’m sure you boys didn’t come out here to watch television anyway, right?”

Come to think of it, Dean has no idea _what_ he came here to do. “Uh… right.”

“Sitting room hours are from eight in the morning to eight at night,” Becky says. She leads them away from the sitting room and past the stairs across from the front door. “Up the stairs you’ll find all the guest suites, be sure to only go in your room.”

Dean doesn’t know why. As far as he can tell, they’re the only guests. “What’s on the third floor?”

“Oh, no. You mustn’t go up there. That’s Gadreel’s floor, he’s very protective of his space! He’s a good boy, but he wanted to have his own rooms, and since he looks after the guests so well, we let him have the third floor. No one is allowed up there but Gadreel.”

Dean fights to suppress the shudder that runs through him. There’s nothing inherently creepy about a man having his own space and not wanting random people invading it, and yet Dean is creeped out all the same. This whole place is creepy. Dean is going to kill Benny.

Becky gestures at a closed door as they pass the stairs. “That used to be a coat closet, but after renovation we made it a linen closet. If you need towels or an extra blanket and you can’t find someone to fetch them, they’re kept in here.” Becky’s eyes widen. “Not that this will happen! Gadreel is _very_ attentive.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Dean says.

Becky nods, walking along. Dean realizes the hem of her sundress is the same floral pattern as everything in the sitting room. _Jesus._ “Now through there is the kitchen, no guests allowed! But if you need something outside of mealtimes, just--”

“Ask Gadreel?” Castiel says. Dean bites back a laugh.

Becky grins. “Yes, he’s very helpful.” She leads them to the dining room. The God awful floral wallpaper is in here too. “We’re not only a bed and breakfast, you know. We also provide dinner! Meals are at eight in the morning, and six at night. The guests and the staff all dine together, isn’t that lovely?”

Dean nods, trying to keep his smile from becoming a grimace. He’s going to have to _eat_ with these people? Maybe more guests will show up and he can use them as a buffer.

“Dinner tonight will be steak! Our house chef is Hael Hammond, that’s my sweet daughter. She’s very good, so I hope you brought your appetites!”

Before Dean can reply, Becky is off again, leading them toward the back door. “Now out back there’s the patio, and some chairs to relax in if you want to look at the woods without venturing in.”

“Are the woods safe?” Castiel asks.

“Well… in the interest of full disclosure… we did _once_ lose a couple.”

“Pardon?” Dean says. They _lost_ a couple?!

“Don and Maggie Stark… they came out here to rekindle their marriage, went on a nature walk, and… they never came back,” Becky says sadly.

Someone whimpers, Dean thinks it was probably him.

“Did something attack them?” Castiel is looking at Dean nervously.

“We’re not sure. The rangers were unable to find any trace of them. They were such a _nice_ couple, too. Could have been bears, or wolves, maybe mountain lions… we’re not sure.” Becky straightens up, smiling brightly. “But that was over a year ago, no one has had any troubles since!”

Dean is so freaked out right now. “Do guests still go in the woods?”

“Well of course! And Gadreel patrols the nearby area regularly. He’s quite a hunter. Some guests have even brought him along as a guide. No extra charge, Gadreel _loves_ going for walks.”

“Ah… great.”

Becky points to the somewhat camouflaged house that Dean noticed when he arrived. “That’s where I live with Hael and Metatron, in case you need to find us during off hours.”

Wait, what? “ _Metatron_?”

“Oh, that’s my husband! Marv Hammond. Metatron is a bit of a nickname.”

“The scribe of God,” Castiel says.

Becky smiles and nods excitedly. “Yes! He’s a writer. A _wonderful_ writer. He’s never been published, but the children and I just love his stories. I bet if you asked nicely he’d read something for you!”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. “Ah… that sounds… great?”

“Your room is ready.” Castiel jumps and Dean yelps at Gadreel’s sudden appearance.

Becky claps her hands together. “Wonderful! Why don’t you show them to their room, sweetheart?” Becky pats Gadreel on the cheek gently, and he nuzzles into her palm, eyes fluttering closed briefly.

What the fuck?

“Of course, Stepmother,” Gadreel says. He makes his way back up the stairs, and Dean is so relieved to be away from Becky, because her cheerfulness and the creepy vibe she has going with her stepson are way too much to deal with.

Now that Dean’s been outside for a moment, the air inside the house feels stale, and stifling. This is not going to be a fun weekend.

Gadreel leads them up the stairs to the second floor, and Dean eyes the stairway leading to the third floor warily, then looks at the placards outside each room as they walk through the hall. Rose Room, Alpine Room, the Chestnut Room Benny stayed in, and the Hammond Room.

“Your bags are inside,” Gadreel says, opening the door to the Hammond Room. He turns swiftly, heading down the hallway.

Dean looks over at Castiel, who’s standing in the doorway with his mouth hanging open. “I’m afraid to look.”

“You should be,” Castiel mutters.

Dean steels himself before walking over and looking into the unknown depths of the Hammond Room.


	24. Interlude: Part Two

Sweet. Merciful. Fuck.

The room’s motif is even more abrasive than the one downstairs. Heavy pink floral patterns on the walls and furniture, dingy off-white lace curtains, doilies for the sake of doilies, and the room is _small_. Dean should have realized the room would be fairly small considering there were four rooms on this floor, but it’s just pathetic. It’s maybe the size of his room at Sam’s, with far more furniture, so there’s even less space. But none of that is really on Dean’s mind.

It’s the _dolls._ Dozens of pale, smiling, dead-eyed faces greet Dean. An army of Victorian style dolls, on the desk, on the easy chair, the shelves, all over the bed. There are even dolls sitting on top of their fucking bags, which means Gadreel set their bags down and then _put dolls on them._ Why are there so many dolls? Why are there _any_ dolls?

“I am going to _kill_ Benny,” Dean growls.

“What do you suppose the other rooms look like?” Castiel says, closing the door.

“Right, like I’m going to go and tell them that their dear departed grandmother’s favorite room isn’t good enough.”

“Does that mean you _don’t_ want to grab our bags and make a hasty exit?”

Dean picks up an armful of dolls, shuddering when some of them _blink_. “Dude I want to, but we’re already in Colorado, you already gave her the money, and… I mean we can still probably make this work.”

“Did you do any research about this place? Online?”

“Uh… well, no. Benny told me about it, and gave me a business card.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “Is Benny prone to pranking you?”

Dean walks over to the room’s armoire with his armful of dolls. He’s going to stuff as many as he can inside. “Honestly,” he says, reaching to open the armoire, “I don’t even-- AAAAGH!!” Dean drops the dolls, jerking away from the armoire. There are more dolls inside, staring and smiling. “Fuck!”

Castiel comes over carrying more dolls, shaking his head. “I don’t know how I’m going to sleep in here.”

They pack all the dolls from the bed into the armoire, and Dean wishes he could salt and burn the whole thing. He groans when he turns and sees there are still so many dolls around the room.

“We’re going to die here just like the Starks,” he says.

“Maybe they were so disquieted by this place they snuck away and never came back for their belongings,” Castiel suggests, and that’s almost as likely as them getting eaten by a wolf, in Dean’s opinion.

Castiel sits on the hideous bed, looking at Dean. “So. We’re staying here. In this terribly decorated room, in this house that smells like a retirement home, with the unnerving staff and the room full of spooky dolls?”

“We came all the way here!” Dean says. He doesn’t want to admit this whole thing is a bust. He doesn’t want to admit that he screwed up, and he definitely doesn’t want to try and ask for his money back from Becky.

“I suppose it would be sad to waste that money,” Castiel says slowly.

“Three hundred ninety-seven dollars, and however much I spent on gas.”

“And I suppose they _probably_ won’t murder us.”

“Well they won’t murder _you,_ since I’m pretty sure Mrs. Hammond wants to get in your pants.”

Castiel shrugs. “I’m not sure I’m enough to sway her attentions away from her stepson.”

Dean plops down next to Castiel. “God, you saw that? This family is fucking creepy as hell and I’ve only met two of them.”

Castiel grabs Dean’s nearest hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “Well that’ll all change when we’re called down for dinner.”

“Ugh. I think I should call Benny and let him know how very much I appreciate his _tip_ ,” Dean grumbles, pulling out his phone. “Oh, God.”

“What?”

Dean turns his phone to face Castiel. “No service.”

“Oh, God.” Castiel gets up and wanders around the room, holding his phone up at different heights. “Nothing.”

“Okay, I’m going to try outside. You stuff the rest of these fucking dolls under the bed.”

“Ugh, good idea.”

Dean leaves the room and heads outside, relieved when he doesn’t come across anyone on his way out. He paces around near the Impala, trying to get a signal on this phone, but nothing. Of course. Of _course_ he’s at this creepy house in the Colorado woods with no damn signal on his--

“There’s no cellular service out here.”

To her credit, the girl that seems to have appeared out of nowhere doesn’t seem at all fazed by Dean’s scream. The girl looks no more than twenty, with long dark hair, pale skin, and massive blue eyes. Maybe the daughter.

“Hael?” Dean says.

“That is me. There’s no cellular service out here.”

“How far do I have to go to make a call?”

“Not far. There is a telephone in the sitting room for the guests. Free of charge. Five minute limit per call.”

Dean sighs, putting his phone in his pocket. “Is it okay to call someone in Kansas?”

“Of course.” Hael stares at Dean for a long, excruciatingly uncomfortable moment. “Dinner will be ready in ninety minutes.” She turns and walks into the house, closing the door behind her. Everyone in that house is creepy.

Dean waits a minute before going back inside, looking for the phone and spotting it on a roll top desk in a corner of the sitting room, sitting on a large doily. Of course. Dean gets closer, and holy shit, it’s a rotary phone. Who still owns a rotary phone?! He dials, actually _dials_ Benny’s number, frowning heavily.

“Hello?”

“Benjamin Lafitte, I am going to fucking _kill_ you.”

“Dean?”

“Yes it’s _Dean,_ you soon to be dead son of a bitch!” Dean looks around the room, making sure he’s alone. “Why the fuck did you send us here?”

“Why did I send who _where_?”

“Why did you send me and Cas to the damn Hammond House?”

Dean winces at what sounds a lot like Benny spitting out a drink and coughing.

“You _went_ to Hammond House?!”

“Uh, yeah?” Dean’s feeling a bit thrown by Benny’s reaction.

“Why the hell did you do that?!”

“BECAUSE YOU TOL--” Dean pauses, letting himself relax and lowering his voice. “Because you _told_ me to, Benny!”

“As a joke! Brother, didn’t you look them up online? The top review on Yelp was written by _me_!”

“No, I didn’t look them up online!”

“Why the hell wouldn’t you look them up?”

“Because you told me they were great!”

“I _also_ told you to check them out.”

“I called the number on the card you gave me! Why did you keep a card for the creepiest place on Earth?”

Benny laughs. “I’m sentimental?”

“I fucking hate you.”

“No way, I’m not taking responsibility for this, man. Who doesn’t check out a B and B online first?”

“I didn’t know I needed to! You know a couple _vanished_ from this damn place?”

“ _Really_.”

“Yes, _really._ And our room is full of antique fucking dolls, man. Fucking everywhere.”

Benny is laughing hysterically. “The Chestnut Room was nice! Shoulda gone in there!”

“You suck, Benny!” Dean barks, hanging up.

“Is everything alright?”

Fuck. Dean is going to tie bells to everyone here so they can’t keep sneaking up on him. The newcomer is much older, and much shorter than Dean, with dull, mousy grey hair, and a smile that tries and fails to be unassuming.

“Just a disagreement with a friend,” Dean says.

“Money or love?”

“What?”

“Your disagreement, was it over money, or love?”

“Oh. Uh. Neither. It was a miscommunication.”

“Well that’s good. Those can be easy to move past. Fights about money or love can be much tougher to settle.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Marv Hammond,” the man says, holding out his hand.

Dean shakes his hand, and it’s… sort of clammy, yuck. “Dean. Uh… Winchester.”

“Ah, Mr. Winchester! I took your reservation just the other day! Glad to see you made it in one piece! Have you met the rest of the staff?”

Yeah, Dean’s met his creepy-ass family.”I… yes. They were all very helpful.”

“Wonderful! It’s been awhile since we had any guests, so Gadreel and Hael have been very excited to have some work to do."

Dear God, that’s them when they’re _excited_? “How long has it been?”

Marv pauses, thinking. “I think about five months?” Jesus _Christ_. “Business sure slowed down after poor Don and Maggie.”

“Oh, uh... yeah. Becky told me about that.”

Marv clucks his tongue sadly. “Yes, such a shame.”

“Is it uh… hard staying open? With so few guests.”

“Oh, no no, we’re fine either way. This place is more of a hobby for us. We have plenty of family money to stay afloat for a long time.”

“Uh, oh, that’s good. Family money is good,” Dean says awkwardly. How does he get out of this conversation?

“My late wife Muriel, God rest her soul, had _quite_ an inheritance,” Marv says. Why is he _telling Dean this_? They _just_ met. “She left it all to my son in her will, so the Hammond House could stay open.”

“Oh, wow, I’m sorry about your wife.”

Marv smiles. “Ah, Muriel. Such a wonderful woman. She always loved this house so much. It’s how we met, she was a frequent guest in her youth, and she was overjoyed to marry into the family and help me keep Hammond House going. If only her love for the house were enough to keep her alive...”

“I, uh… what?”

“Nasty fall down the stairs, such a pity.”

Wait. _These_ stairs? His first wife died in this god damn house? “That’s awful,” Dean says. Which is true. It is awful. This entire conversation is awful.

“Yes, it truly was,” Marv says, and oh God, he’s ramping up to share more personal details. “We’d recently hired on Becky, and the poor thing was the one to find Muriel.”

“Um… oh. Wow.”

“Yes, the poor girl. It seemed like the two of them were finally getting along, only for their friendship to be cut short. But! Life moves on, Dean! Becky later confessed her love for me, we married, had Hael, and now the four of us are one big happy family!”

Dean just stares. He didn’t ask for any of this information.

Marv continues. “Anyway, I’d better let my wife know I’m home. She worries. You know how women can be.”

“Sure,” Dean mutters. As soon as Marv is gone, Dean bolts up the stairs.

The dolls have been cleared when he bursts back into the Hammond Room, and Castiel is laying on the bed, flipping through what looks to be an issue of fucking Reader’s Digest.

“Did you make your call?” Castiel asks, still looking at the magazine.

“Dude. I changed my mind. We should accept the loss of jar money, and _leave_.”

“Are you okay?”

“I just met the owner, who _cheerfully_ told me about his first wife’s tragic death on _those_ stairs, and I’m ninety-eight percent sure that Stepford Becky pushed her.”

Castiel slowly closes the magazine. “Dean.”

“ _Cas._ ”

“Do you think that perhaps given the unnerving personalities of the staff here, your imagination might be starting to run amok?”

“Run _amok_? Dude, you weren’t there, I really think--”

“Dean, Becky is off-putting, but I doubt she _murdered_ the owner’s first wife. This isn’t a television show.”

Dean deflates slightly. “Okay well you admit they’re incredibly fucking creepy, right?”

“I’d have to be dead not to notice that.”

“Horrible word choice, man.”

 

***

 

Dean is dozing, head pillowed in Castiel’s lap while Castiel reads a fifteen year old issue of Good Housekeeping. Castiel’s fingers are absently petting through Dean’s hair, and it’s nice, especially since there are no dolls watching. Knowing they’re under the bed is a bit spooky, though. There’s a knock at the door, and Dean sighs.

“Must be dinner time,” he says quietly.

“Well I’m hungry, so that’s a good thing,” Castiel says, setting the magazine down.

Dean stands, ambling over to the door and pulling it open. He fights the urge to wince at Becky’s beaming smile.

“I hope you boys are ready for steak!”

Dean wants to reply with an excuse and maybe escape dinner, but he doesn’t. “Any sort of… dress code?”

Becky laughs. “Goodness, no! Now come along, I’m sure you’re very hungry, you’ve got to get fuel in those…” Becky trails off, eyes lingering on Castiel. “Strapping bodies…”

Jesus Christ.

There are ten chairs around the large oak dining table, with six places set. Marv is at the head of the table, smiling beatifically. Gadreel and Hael are both at Marv’s left, eyeing their plates with mild interest, and Becky is on Marv’s right, gazing at Gadreel. The food and drinks are already served, which for some reason makes Dean uncomfortable.

Becky sees them coming in and smiles. “Castiel, Dean, why don’t you sit by me?”

Dean rushes to sit by her before Castiel can; he doesn’t trust the woman not to grope his boyfriend under the table. Castiel looks at him with a confused lift to his eyebrows, but sits beside him without comment.

“Everything looks delicious,” Dean says. He’s not lying, the steaks have a gorgeous sear to them, the mashed potatoes look fluffy and creamy, the vegetables look vibrant and appetizing, and there are even glasses of milk next to each plate. Dean hasn’t had milk with his dinner since he was a kid.

“Hael is a very good cook,” Becky says, “she spent a whole semester at culinary school before she got too homesick.” When Hael glares at Becky, she adds “Sorry, baby, you know Mommy’s so proud of you!”

“You learned a lot, Princess!” Marv says, practically bursting with pride. “Now! Who would like to say grace?”

Castiel loses color in his face impressively fast, which Dean can understand. Crazy religious upbringing and all that.

“Uh, we’re no good at that,” Dean says smiling at Marv, “but I hear you have a way with words.”

Marv beams. “Well, since you _insist,_ everyone please join hands!”

Castiel and Becky each take one of Dean’s hands, and now Dean wishes he hadn’t sat here, because he’s holding hands with this woman he just met that he’s still pretty sure murdered Marv’s first wife. Awesome day. Dean sighs, closing his eyes when he sees the others bowing their heads.

“Dear lord in your infinite wisdom and patience,” Marv begins, “thank you for all the blessings you’ve seen fit to bestow. Thank you for my beautiful wife, my two wonderful children, our lovely guests, and for the food we are all about to enjoy. May we continue to be worthy of your favor and love.”

“Amen!” Becky practically yells.

Dean digs into his food, expecting to lose consciousness at any moment and wake up in an ice bath with his kidneys missing. The steak is delicious. Not as good as the food Castiel makes of course, but still very tasty.

Dean finishes his bite of steak before speaking. “This is so good, Hael.”

Hael drops her fork, staring at Dean with wide eyes. “But you’re from a _city_.”

“Yeah?” Dean takes a big nervous drink of his milk.

“You’re from a city, and you think my food tastes good?” Hael sounds so astonished.

“It _does_ taste good,” Castiel says.

Dean points to Castiel. “Listen to the man, he’s a pastry chef. He knows food.”

“Really?” Hael asks. She looks so touched, is she not receiving enough positive reinforcement at home? Becky can’t seem to _stop_ complimenting her family.

Dean reaches into his wallet. He’s never mentioned it to Castiel, but he regularly pilfers business cards from the front of Castiel’s shop to give to people at the garage. He slaps the card down on the table, sliding it over to Hael.

“Bonafide chef! And I’m a bonafide lover of steak, so you can trust us.”

“Wow,” Hael says, staring at the card before pocketing it.

“You’re the first guests she’s cooked for since she came home, so she was nervous. We all love her cooking, though. Gadreel can't get enough of her blueberry muffins, isn’t that right, Gadreel?” Becky smiles at her stepson.

“Yes, Stepmother.”

Hael starts in on her food, and something in Dean warms at the small, pleased smile on her face.

 

***

 

After dinner, Dean and Castiel are about to retreat to their room when Becky accosts them on the way to the stairs. “Great news! Marv has offered to share a story in the sitting room! Come, come!” Becky grabs Castiel’s hand and pulls him along without even waiting for an answer. Dean sighs, scrubbing his face with his hand.

There are quite a few sofas and stuffed chairs in the room, and Castiel immediately pulls Dean over to one that only seats two people. Becky sits between Gadreel and Hael, while Marv sits in one of the recliners, grinning from ear to ear.

“Everyone ready for a tale from the scrolls of Metatron?” Marv asks.

“Yes!” Becky says enthusiastically, and Dean wonders if "fucking ecstatic" is her only setting.

“We’re ready, Father,” Hael and Gadreel say in unison.

“Um, yes,” Dean says.

“Splendid!” Marv cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders, and Dean wishes he would just get on with it. “Once upon a time, there was a thoughtful and brave angel named Metatron…”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Marv’s story is long and derivative, and details a conflict between the brave Metatron, and an angel called The Rebel. Metatron casts all the angels out of Heaven, and the Rebel wants to let them all back in, even though they don’t deserve it, and Metatron only wants his favorites to be allowed to return. Dean’s ninety-nine percent sure that Metatron is meant to be the hero of this story, but he finds himself rooting for The Rebel.

“And with his lover slain,” Marv says, “the evil Rebel gives up on his futile cause, retreating and letting Metatron’s plans come to fruition. The end.”

Dean stares, trying not to let his face contort into a grimace like it so desperately wants to. What an appalling story. Every character other than Metatron was one dimensional, and the ending was rushed and stupid, and who wants to hear a story about an angel who wins his battle by killing the lover of his enemy in order to shatter his will to fight? No wonder this guy’s never been published.

“Another amazing story, honey!” Becky says excitedly. “I hope you’re planning to write this one down!”

“Just as soon as we close up!” Marv says with a smile.

Wait, what? “Close up?”

“Oh yes, it’s almost eight o’clock!”

Dean doesn’t get it. “Yeah?”

“Didn’t Becky tell you? Guests must go up to their rooms at eight. Then we get the place tended and cleaned, and lock everything up by nine!”

Holy shit, they have a curfew. “We don’t have to go to sleep by nine, do we?”

Becky laughs. “Goodness, no! There should be quite an assortment of books and magazines in your room, and Gadreel will be upstairs if you need anything, you only need to ring the bell at the bottom of the staircase to the third floor. The rest of us will head back to the house by the woods. Hael likes to watch the Food Network.”

“Me too,” Dean says absentmindedly. Wait. They have a TV and cable at the house, but not here? Damn it all to hell. They should have spent the weekend in Dean’s tiny bedroom.

“Well goodnight everyone,” Castiel says, heading for the stairs.

“Sweet dreams!” Becky says.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean mutters, “don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Becky looks horrified. “Oh goodness no, we certainly don’t have any bedbugs here!”

“No, it’s just a--”

“Come on, Dean,” Castiel interrupts, pulling him up the stairs.

“Right. Uh, goodnight.”

Dean and Castiel trudge up the stairs, and Dean tries his hardest not to picture a woman being shoved down them to her death. Once in their room, Dean relishes the act of locking the door, leaning his forehead against it.

“Do you want to push the armoire in front of it?” Castiel asks.

“I know you’re joking, but I kinda do.”

“I’m sure no one will break into our room, Dean.”

“Yeah right. Any minute now Becky’s gonna come in here and ask if you want to have a threesome with her and her stepson.”

“Oh, God.”

Dean’s still standing at the door, and he thunks his head against the wood a few times for no reason. This place sucks. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks Becky makes a move on you before the weekend is up.”

Castiel moves up behind Dean, wrapping his arms around Dean’s midsection and leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “Pass.”

Dean shudders, then shakes his head. “You can’t seriously want to have sex in this place.”

Castiel’s hands make their way down to Dean’s pants. “I think it will help us relax.”

Castiel unbuttons Dean’s jeans, steering Dean away from the door and over to the bed. With a playful shove from Castiel, Dean ends up face down on the bed. He wriggles his way further up the blanket, grinning when he feels Castiel climbing over him.

“Think I should take my shoes off?”

Castiel nuzzles against the back of Dean’s neck. “Mmm, maybe later,” he says, grinding his dick against Dean’s ass and moaning quietly.

“Cas, what about this place is getting you horny?”

Castiel chuckles. “Nothing. Just the man I’m here with.”

“Shit, you’re such a sweet talker.”

“I learned from the best. What was it you said when we met? You’d fuck me in the waiting room of a funeral parlor?”

“That… _might_ be what I said. I’m such a romantic.”

“Hey now, you are. You planned a weekend away for us.”

“In the world’s creepiest B and B.”

“Did you ever find out why Benny sent you here?”

Dean sighs, turning onto his back to look up at Castiel. “Actually, he gave me the business card as a joke. He thought I’d look them up online and see all the bad reviews on Yelp or whatever. But I never looked them up.”

Castiel bites his lip, body shaking lightly.

Dean narrows his eyes. “Don’t you laugh at me, Casper.”

“Don’t you call me Casper, _Kitten_.”

“Don’t you--”

Dean is cut off when Castiel kisses him, pressing their clothed groins together. “I bet I could make you purr like one,” Castiel says, pushing his hand into Dean’s open pants and rubbing at the hardness he finds there.

Dean groans. “Jesus fuck, Cas. You’re sure doing well with this whole experience.”

“I’m happy to be here,” Castiel says, snaking his hand inside Dean’s boxers.

Dean licks his lips, breathing heavily as Castiel’s thumb rubs against his cockhead. “Really?”

“Yes everyone here is unnerving, and the decor is hideous, and there are dozens of creepy blank-eyed dolls stuffed under the bed… but we’re here because you wanted to surprise me with a romantic gesture. It’s that gesture that makes me so happy to be here with you.”

“You talk awfully sweet for a guy with someone else’s dick in his hand.”

“I could talk about how gorgeous your eyes are while I ride you.”

Dean groans, hands moving to Castiel’s ass. “Yeah, Cas? You want me to lie on this ugly fucking bed while you ride my dick?”

“Mmm, yes Dean,” Castiel says, pulling away to undress.

Dean unties his shoes, nodding over towards his duffel bag. “Lube’s in the bag.”

Castiel crouches next to Dean’s bag, still in his boxers. He paws through the contents, frowning slowly. “It’s not in here.”

“Oh fuck, did I forget to pack it?”

Castiel shrugs, rising to his feet. “Well, there are other things we can do.”

Dean pouts. “But that riding thing sounded so fun!”

“Awww,” Castiel says, crawling back on the bed, “poor Dean.” He straddles Dean, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Are you going to take any clothes off?”

“No.”

“No?”

Dean grins. “There’s lube in the glove box!”

“And I suppose you want to get up so you can go get it,” Castiel says, rocking their hips together.

Dean hisses, grabbing onto Castiel’s waist. “What, you don’t want me to fuck you anymore?” He flips them, pinning Castiel’s wrists to the bed and nipping at his neck.

“Hmmm I don’t know…”

“Maybe you’re just feeling lazy,” Dean murmurs, rutting against him, “you want me to do all the work now, huh?”

“Maybe…”

Dean kisses Castiel, groaning when their tongues meet.

“Mmm, Dean.”

“Cas.”

“Dean…”

“Cas?”

“The glovebox, Dean.”

Dean nods, getting to his feet and carefully zipping his pants up over his erection. “Don’t have any orgasms without me.”

“I will try my hardest to control myself.”

Dean exits the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He turns to go down the hallway, only barely managing to hold back a scream when he realizes he’s not alone.

“Can I help you with anything, Mr. Winchester?” Gadreel says, and why does his voice have to sound so _sinister_?

Dean can already feel his erection dying a swift death. “Just uh… wanted to get something from my car.”

“I’m afraid it’s after nine, guests aren’t permitted to leave.”

“I’m not leaving! I’m getting something out of my car.”

“If you’ll give me your keys, perhaps I can retrieve your item for you.”

Dean pauses, trying to decide if he wants to bury himself in Castiel’s ass badly enough to ask a stranger to dig through his car for lube. “It would only take a minute for me to go out there. You could watch me from the porch?”

“Rules are rules,” Gadreel says firmly.

“Yeah, but--”

“I will not break my father’s rules, Mr. Winchester. Now, is there anything I can do for you, or will you be heading back to your room?”

Dean glares. “I’ll be heading back to my room.”

Gadreel just nods, and Dean angrily shoves the door open, slamming it closed when he’s back inside. Castiel stares at him from the bed, looking mildly affronted.

“Dude, who gives a shit if I slam the door, we’re the only guests!” Dean barks.

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “Did you just _yell_ at me?”

“Ah. No. I was yelling _near_ you. Huge difference.”

“Mhm.”

“I was!”

“Uh huh.”

Dean sighs. “Sorry.”

“There we go. Now, what’s wrong?”

“Gadreel wouldn’t let me leave,” Dean grumbles.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, dude. He told me I couldn’t leave,” Dean says, pushing away from the door. He takes his shoes off and then climbs into bed next to his boxer-clad boyfriend. “Guess I shouldn’t talk about him too loudly, fucker’s probably still lurking outside the damn door.”

“He really wouldn’t let you leave?”

“Well I didn’t want to try to _shove_ him out of the way, but I made several… verbal requests and was denied.”

“I guess you just didn’t want it bad enough,” Castiel says with a teasing smile.

“Hey, now. I wanted it. I’ll climb out the window right now and go get that damn bottle.”

“Or,” Castiel murmurs softly, crawling over Dean to nuzzle at the front of his jeans. “we could do something else.”

Dean grins, reaching down to unzip his pants with one hand and tangling the other in Castiel’s hair. "Alright, alright. But we're doing that riding thing later."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Look I hate author notes that interrupt the story but I just want to say that despite the case!fic vibe, there is no actual case happening here. Just me playing with some of my favorite sitcom staples and inflicting them on Dean and Cas.)


	25. Interlude: Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for kind of graphic wild animal death, mild gore.

Breakfast is a bit awkward. Dean is still pissed at Gadreel, who seems to be angry at Hael over something. In fact, the whole family seems to be angry at the girl meekly staring at her scrambled eggs. After another overblown prayer from Marv, no one says much of anything. Breakfast passes quickly, and the family files out while Hael gathers the dishes.

Dean can’t help it, he has to ask. “So... did you piss everyone off, kid?”

“I suppose so,” Hael mutters.

“Don’t pry, Dean.” Castiel flicks Dean on the ear, and Dean bats his hand away.

“It’s fine,” Hael says, “they’re angry that I want to go back to culinary school.”

Not really what Dean was expecting. “Oh?”

“They think I’ll get homesick again. Last time I came home because I got homesick, and a great deal of tuition money was wasted,” Hael says, frowning at the dirty glasses on the table. “It’s possible.”

“Well,” Castiel says gently, “why do you want to go back?”

“I’ve learned a great deal from television, but I want the formal training, and to work in a restaurant, and see smiles on the faces of strangers when they eat my food. I thought I missed it here, but once I came back I realized I was just scared of moving on.”

Wow, Hael almost sounds sane. She probably _should_ get out of this place.

“That’s a lovely thing to want,” Castiel says.

“I think part of it is that they don’t wish to lose me as a cook.”

Dean shrugs. “I’m sure they’re only worried about you.” Hael glares. “Uh… then again, you know them better than I do.”

“Yes.”

“Look kid, family is important, but so is living the life you want for yourself. If you think you’re ready, find a way to make them see that, and let them know you still love them and all that good stuff,” Dean says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Hael pauses for a long moment, before gathering a pile of dishes in her arms. “You’ve given me a great deal to consider, Mr. Winchester,” she says solemnly. She gives one last nod and makes her way toward the kitchen with the dishes.

Castiel smiles. “Look at you, imparting wisdom and reasonable advice to a young person.”

Dean knows he’s blushing. “Yeah, well.”

“You’re a very sweet man, Dean.”

“Bah, shut up.”

 

***

 

When Dean made the reservation for Hammond House, he assumed there’d be lots to do. He thought the place would be in a more residential area with quaint mom and pop stores to browse, diners to sample, shit like that. But there’s not much to do at the house. The nearest town is far, and the only places of interest aren’t very interesting. Or open on the weekend. So Dean and Castiel spend a lot of time in their room, just talking. They swap stories, and it feels good. Dean tells Castiel about the time he had to switch grade schools because he beat up a fifth grader that was picking on Sam, and Castiel tells Dean about crying after his first wet dream because he thought he was a big dirty sinner. Dean loses his struggle to not laugh at that, and endures a brief pillow assault in retribution.

“I’m _sorry,_ ” he says between laughs, “I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing _with_ you.”

“I’m not laughing, though. You’re just impolite.”

“Yeah? You wanna spank me?”

Castiel regards Dean thoughtfully. “A little.”

“Of course you do. Actually, I was thinking we could go for a walk. Since we’re in the Colorado woods and all that.”

“I thought you didn’t want to go out there, after hearing about that couple.”

“I’m not afraid of the woods, I’m afraid of the people living here. Totally different.”

“Ah… if you say so.”

They get dressed to go outside, and Castiel is charitable enough not to say anything when Dean stuffs a Swiss Army knife in his pocket. They’re about to go out the front door when Becky comes running up to them. Now what?

“Uh, hey,” Dean says.

“Are you going for a drive into town?”

“Ah, no. Just for a walk.”

“May I ask which way you’ll be walking?”

“Uh… I have no idea.”

Becky frowns. “Oh no, no. That won’t do. We need to know the direction you’ll be walking.”

Dean looks at Castiel, then back at Becky. “Why?”

“Oh you know, in case you don’t come back.”

“Yeah, that’s not terrifying, thanks.”

“Better safe than sorry!” Becky says with a smile. She’s _so chipper_.

“Uh, yeah that’s true. Do you have a suggestion?”

Becky pauses, like she’s really giving this a lot of thought. “I’d say go north, there’s a cute little creek up that way.”

“Alrighty, north it is!”

Becky smiles, holding out a small tote bag that Dean is assuming she pulled out of some sort of subspace dimension because it wasn’t in her hand a minute ago.

He takes the bag slowly. “Thank you?”

“Have a wonderful walk! Don’t forget to bring a camera!” Becky hurries off.

“What’s in the bag?” Castiel asks, leading Dean outside.

Dean peers in the bag. “Two bottles of water, a compass, and some protein bars.”

“That’s very thoughtful.”

“You think so? You can carry it then,” Dean says, handing the bag to Castiel, who rolls his eyes. “So, which way is north?”

 

***

 

It’s pleasant, traveling through the forest. Dean hasn’t gone camping in eons, it’s nice being surrounded by all the natural beauty. Though none of it is as beautiful as Castiel.

“Did you just say I was beautiful?”

Dean looks at Castiel, aghast. “Well, I _thought_ I said that in my head, but I guess not.”

“Such a sweetheart.”

“Shut it.”

After forty minutes of walking north, they reach the creek. It’s not that exciting, but it’s beautiful. The air smells nice, there are birds chirping, the sun is shining, and there’s a fallen tree for them to sit on and eat their protein bars.

“So,” Dean says, taking a swig of water, “are you enjoying the woods?”

“Oh yes, very much. It’s amazing how there can be so much life and yet so much stillness. There are no chemical smells, no litter, no one but you and me.”

“Yep, no one but you and me.” Dean sighs. “I should have brought the lube.”

Castiel snorts and before Dean knows what’s happening, he’s flat on his back next to the fallen tree. He’s laying on about a thousand sticks and pine cones and his dropped water bottle is making a puddle around his calf. None of that matters though, because Castiel is crawling over him, kissing him deep, scratching blunt nails pleasantly against Dean’s scalp. After a few minutes of deep kissing Castiel pulls away, smiling down at Dean.

“Hey,” Dean says, smiling lazily.

“Hello, Dean.”

Just the two of them. Dean smiles, petting a hand through Castiel’s hair. “Love you, Cas.”

“ _Dean_.”

There’s something so liberating about this, saying “I love you” and knowing he’s saying it because he means it, not because the other person said it first, or because they’ve been dating a certain amount of time.

Castiel drops two more kisses on Dean’s mouth before straddling his hips. He looks like he’s about to say something when he freezes, eyes wide and jaw hanging open as he stares at something out of Dean’s line of sight. He’s gone from looking pleased to terrified in about two seconds.

“Cas?”

“About a hundred yards up the stream,” Castiel whispers, “there’s a bear.”

Dean starts to sit up.

“Slowly, Dean,” Castiel hisses.

Dean sits up as Castiel slowly dismounts from his hips, kneeling and staring up the creek. He turns slowly, wincing at every twig snap and pine cone crunch his movement causes. He looks up the stream, and holy shit. There’s a god damn _bear_ drinking up the stream on the opposite bank. The bear lifts its head, slowly prowling a few feet in their direction, and Dean’s going to have a fucking heart attack. The bear doesn’t seem to have noticed them, and after padding a few feet closer it starts drinking again.

“Fuck,” Dean mutters.

“Do you think we should wait and see if it leaves, or try to make a break for it?”

“Fuck.”

Dean takes out the compass, moving it to figure out which way they need to go. He points south, and Castiel follows his line of sight. “That’s the direction we need to go. I think if we can get to the tree line without it noticing us, we’ll be good to go. I hope.”

The tree line is only about eight yards away, and it’s in the direction away from the bear. Not far at all, but it seems like miles. The two of them slowly rise to their feet, afraid anything fast will get the bear’s attention.

Dean pats his pocket, making sure the compass is inside. “Alright, baby. We’re going to walk slowly to the tree line, and as soon as we’re out of sight, we fucking run for it. Sound good?”

Castiel takes Dean’s hand, squeezing it once before letting go. “Yes.”

Their steps are slow, careful, and Dean feels like he’s going to throw up every time something crunches under his feet. He’s making himself dizzy turning his head to see where the bear is every few seconds, but he has to know. Slowly but surely, they’re making their way closer and closer to relative safety, while the bear is pawing at something in the water. A little further and they can run.

A bird chirps overhead, and the bear looks up at it, then over at Dean and Castiel. The two of them stop, staring at the bear. Should they keep going? Freeze and hope it loses interest? Seconds pass, and the decision is made for them when the bear splashes through the water, running at an angle in their direction.

“Jesus fuck, RUN!!” Dean shouts.

They run, breaking through the tree line and crashing through the forest. It’s hard, the ground on the path didn’t feel so uneven before, and Dean’s not even sure they’re going in a straight line. Castiel is slightly ahead, and he looks behind them, eyes widening as he stumbles.

“No!” Dean barks. “Don’t turn around, just keep running, okay? I’m right behind you. Just keep running.”

“Just keep running,” Castiel repeats.

Despite his own advice, Dean looks behind them. The bear is much, much closer than it was before. It’s going to catch them, and it’s going to kill them. As his feet pound along the ground, Dean thinks of a joke his father once told about bears. “You don’t have to outrun the bear,” John had said, “you just have to outrun one of your buddies.” Castiel is already ahead. If Dean lets the bear catch him, Castiel can get away. Dean has the Swiss Army knife. Maybe he can stab it in the face or something.

He stops running, watching Castiel get further away, and hoping he doesn’t realize Dean has stopped. The bear is incredibly close, Jesus. Fueled by adrenaline and a running mantra of _protectcasprotectcasprotectcas_ in his head, Dean pulls out the knife and opens the blade. Summoning his extremely limited knowledge of how to deal with bears, Dean raises his arms over his head, trying to make himself look bigger. The bear actually slows, now only a few yards away. It’s big, but not as big as the stuffed grizzly Dean once saw in a museum. Still big enough to kill the fuck out of him, though.

The bear’s hesitation fills Dean with a panicked hope; maybe he can get out of this. His grip on his knife is so tight his hand is in pain.

The bear seems to decide it can take Dean and it charges forward. In the distance, Dean can hear Castiel screaming his name in horror, and then there’s a loud pop, and the bear’s left eye is suddenly gone, and then another pop. The bear drops to the ground like a sack of stones.

Dean’s arms slowly drop to his sides. He stares at the unmoving beast, mind struggling to process what he’s seeing. A moment ago he was staring his death in the face, its sharp teeth and cruel black eyes closing in. Now he’s not. There’s the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, and then a man is in front of him, yelling his name. The man slaps him, hard, and Dean realizes he’s staring into Castiel’s panicked eyes.

“Look at me,” Castiel says frantically, “are you with me?”

“Cas. What happened? Are you okay? What…”

Dean realizes there’s someone else with them. Gadreel Hammond. Holding a rifle. Gadreel saved his life. Dean looks between Gadreel’s face and the rifle.

“Stepmother sent me to watch over you,” Gadreel says. “It took me longer than I thought to find you, I apologize.”

“Apologize? You saved my life,” Dean says, still in shock. “Thank you. God, you are getting the biggest tip ever.”

Gadreel shakes his head. “I’m not allowed to accept tips, Father says that will make me prideful.”

Gadreel just saved Dean’s life, so Dean’s not going to point out how prideful _Marv_ is. “I have to do _something_ to thank you.”

“I like to hunt,” Gadreel says dismissively, walking away. “Come along, I will escort you back to the house.”

“I… okay. Thank you, Gadreel.”

“You are very lucky, Dean Winchester. Running from a bear only makes it want to chase you more, and bears are very fast. This one already had some sort of injury. A larger, healthier bear would have caught up to you in seconds.”

Dean shudders. Great to know he’d be in pieces on the forest floor right now if not for whatever injury the bear had, and the holes Gadreel made in its face.

The walk back to Hammond House is uncomfortable and tense. Castiel clutches Dean’s hand so hard it hurts, but Dean doesn’t try to free himself. No one speaks, and Dean’s thoughts are mostly stuck on a loop, replaying those seconds before Gadreel came to the rescue, and remembering details that his mind glossed over in the moment. The bear’s large, dingy teeth, the left ear of the bear having a chunk missing, the wet jaw from drinking out of the stream. He remembers how hard his heart was beating, the sound of Castiel screaming his name at the moment he realized Dean wasn’t with him. After a while his imagination starts to get away from him, and he finds himself picturing things that didn’t happen; stabbing at the bear’s face with his little knife, the bear biting into his throat, Castiel running back to help and getting killed too.

“Dean.”

Dean startles out of his grim daydreams. Castiel is standing in front of him, stroking his cheek. It hurts. He offers a weak smile. “You slapped me.”

Castiel frowns. “That was over an hour ago.”

Dean blinks, looking around. Holy shit, they’re back in the Hammond Room. When did that happen? Dean doesn’t remember walking up any stairs. Or coming back to the house at all.

Castiel directs Dean to the bed, kneeling to untie his shoes. “My instinct is to pack up and leave, but I’m not in the mood to drive, and no offense but I don’t trust you behind the wheel right now.”

Dean nods. “God, I want to be home. Maybe pry Ezekiel from Sammy and get some kitten therapy.”

Castiel pulls Dean’s feet out of his shoes. “Oh yes, I think some kitten snuggling would be very helpful.” He moves forward, wrapping his arms around Dean and burying his face in Dean’s midsection. Dean can’t even find it in himself to make some sexual comment, instead curling himself over Castiel as best he can.

“You lied to me,” Castiel says.

“What? When?”

“In the woods. You told me to keep running, that you were right there behind me.”

“Cas…”

“And so I kept running… and it took me a bit, but I realized I couldn’t hear your footsteps anymore. And I turned my head, and you were back there. Confronting a fucking bear. A _bear_. With that stupid Swiss Army knife.”

“I wanted to buy you some time. You’re faster, you had a better shot.”

Castiel pulls away, pacing around the room. “You can’t just... decide you’re going to die like that and give up.”

“I didn’t. I mean I thought there was a chance I could scare it… or uh… stab it.” Dean sighs. “I wanted to keep you safe. If I’d told you to go on without me, would you have?”

“Of course not.”

“See?”

“It wasn’t your choice to make!” Castiel shouts. It’s weird, Castiel yelling. It doesn’t make sense, like seeing his mother yell. “If you’d died… if you’d died, the last thing you said to me would have been a lie. Then that bear would have gotten you, and you would have been screaming… and…”

Castiel lets out a weird sob and stomps back over to Dean, shoving him on his back on the bed and crawling over him. Before Dean can say anything he has Castiel’s tongue in his mouth, and he finds his body shifting gears. Dean pulls back, muttering apologies in between kisses.

Castiel reaches down to open Dean’s pants. “Don’t ever lie to me again,” he begs.

“I won’t, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just wanted to know you were safe.”

Castiel switches his efforts to his own pants, vigorously kicking off his shoes. He rolls off of Dean long enough for both of them to get their jeans off and then climbs back on top of him.

Piece by piece, the world melts away. The floral bedspread, the dolls under the bed and in the armoire, the memories of the forest, all fading into the background until there’s only Castiel, leaving a trail of desperate bites down Dean’s neck and collarbone. He drags his nails down Dean’s sides, muttering Dean’s name over and over.

They work their underwear down, rutting and clinging together. After a few more seconds of frantic kissing Castiel pulls back to wet his palm, then reaches down and wraps his hand around Dean’s cock.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean groans. He spits in his hand to return the favor, and the two of them stroke each other almost viciously, moaning into each other’s mouths.

“Should’ve gotten that lube out of the car. Then you could _oh_ … be inside…”

Dean strokes harder, precome slicking the way. “You wanna stop, then?”

“You think you can?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Dean pants. He nuzzles almost gently at Castiel’s neck before biting down hard, wanting to leave a nice strong bruise. Castiel stiffens, crying out and coming all over Dean’s hand.

“Shit,” Dean mutters, licking his lips.

Castiel continues to jack Dean, shuddering through the edges of his orgasm. “Love you.”

Dean whimpers, his orgasm creeping up out of nowhere. “Shit, shit, shit.” He comes hard, almost painfully.

Castiel pants, letting himself slowly collapse against Dean. For a few minutes the room is silent, save for their slowing breaths.

Eventually Dean winces at the stickiness on his hand and various parts of his body. “So… shower? And a nap?”

“Will I have to move to make any of that happen?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Castiel sighs. “Fine, fine.”


	26. Interlude: Part Four

Dean’s freshly showered and on the bed with Castiel, the two of them tightly wrapped around each other. Neither man is speaking, and if Castiel is anything like Dean he’s trying hard not to think about what almost happened in those woods. He wants to take that nap he suggested, but at the same time he’s kind of scared he’s going to dream of running through the woods from that bear, or of Castiel screaming his name. He shudders.

Castiel pets a hand through Dean’s hair. “Think about something else if you can.”

“Like what?”

There’s a soft knock at the door, and Castiel pulls away. “Think about opening the door.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you somehow arranged that.”

They both pull on shirts and clean boxers, and while Castiel gets back into bed, Dean goes to answer the door. Hael and Becky are there, each carrying a covered tray and a bottle of water.

“Uh… hey,” Dean says.

Becky launches right into chatter mode. “Now it’s far too early for dinner, and normally I discourage guests from eating up in their rooms, but you two have had quite an ordeal today, and I think we can set aside those rules just this once.” She walks in, not bothering to wait for an invite, a fact Dean is willing to overlook since she’s bringing him food. She and Hael set the trays and water bottles on the desk by the window, casting a few sympathetic looks their way.

They’re about to exit the room when Becky stops and looks around, confused. “Where are all the dolls?”

Oh, whoops. How does he explain their absence without insulting the room?

“They’re under the bed and in the armoire,” Castiel says, “Dean has a terrible and intense phobia of dolls.”

Dean opens his mouth to protest, then sighs and closes it again. That’s actually a perfect explanation, and not even that far from the truth, since those dolls really do freak him the fuck out.

“Oh _dear,_ ” Becky says, covering her mouth with her hand. It’s not _that_ scandalous.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean says, nodding. “I blame that movie with the evil doll that I saw as a kid. Now I’m terrified of the things.”

“Oh my that must have been so frightening for you to come in here and see so many dolls!” Becky says, looking ready to hug Dean.

“He nearly cried,” Castiel adds. Dean glares at him. _Someone’s_ sleeping on the floor tonight.

“Oh honey,” Becky says, gripping Dean’s arm in what he assumes is meant to be a comforting gesture. “Well don’t you worry, you keep those dolls where they are and we’ll take care of them when you check out tomorrow.”

Might as well lean into the skid. Dean clasps Becky’s hand, holding it to his arm and looking at her with his best sad puppy face. “ _Thank you_ ,” he says emphatically.

“Now when you’re done eating, all you have to do is leave the trays and garbage outside your door and Gadreel will come for them later,” Becky says. She smiles gently before leaving the room with Hael trailing behind her.

The food smells so good and Dean rushes over to the desk as soon as the door is closed and lifts the lid. Oh, _fuck_ yeah. Small handmade pizzas, topped with olives, bell peppers, sausage, pepperoni, and a generous helping of cheese, each cut into four slices. Dean picks up a slice and moans when he realizes the crust is stuffed with more cheese.

“I think we should bring Hael back with us for the days we don’t feel like cooking,” Dean says.

Castiel tries to answer, but his mouth is full of pizza. Dean takes a bite and lets out another moan. Damn, this is exactly what he needed after his traumatic day. They both eat half their pizzas right away, then slow down a bit. Still, the pizzas are gone within ten minutes and Dean lets himself collapse onto the bed. Castiel downs half his water bottle and then crawls onto the bed as well.

After a moment Dean chuckles, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t believe how much money we spent to come out here and sit around in an ugly bedroom.”

“And get chased by a bear.”

“And that. This isn’t what I imagined at all.”

Castiel lays his head on Dean’s chest. “And what did you imagine?”

“Dunno… I didn’t pay much attention to the area on the map, and before we actually got here I thought this place would be in some nice small town… and we’d browse the cute little shops and scandalize the locals with public displays of same sex affection, eat at some local favorite restaurants, come back and snuggle in bed and talk about nothing.” Dean knows he’s blushing.

“That sounds lovely, Dean.”

Dean snorts. “Well if I’d researched _anything_ other than directions to this address maybe I’d have known none of that was in the cards. I was so caught up in the idea of what could happen I didn’t pay attention to the details.”

“Hey. We cuddled and talked about nothing plenty this weekend,” Castiel says, kissing Dean’s sternum through his shirt.

“In a hideous room with dozens of dolls lurking in the shadows.”

“I’m starting to think you _do_ have a doll phobia.”

“Well if I didn’t before, I do now. And don’t act like I’m alone in thinking they’re creepy, Cas.”

Dean can feel Castiel nod against his chest. “They’re chilling.”

“ _Thank you_.”

“Anyway… we can always try this again some time. But… with research. Perhaps check online review sites. Maybe pull up a Google Map view of the area. Things like that.”

“I didn’t even realize how little I’d thought this through until it was too late.”

“Well I’m still happy we came.”

Dean looks down at the top of Castiel’s head incredulously. “Really?”

Castiel snorts. “On second thought, no.”

“What a mess of a weekend. We only have to make it through one more awkward meal, then drive back to Kansas and you and I can have a good long cry and get back to our normal lives.”

“About that,” Castiel says, sitting up and facing Dean. “I’ve been thinking, and… I wasn’t even sure I was going to bring this up. I figured it was too soon. But I mean if you’re crazy enough to go confronting a _bear_ …” Castiel buries his face in his hands, groaning. “It’s too soon. We’ve only been dating for… and we’re not… but sometimes you just _know_ , right?” Castiel looks at Dean like he’s expecting a response, when he hasn’t actually told Dean what he’s talking about.

“Cas, I want to talk about this with you but I need to know _what_ we’re talking about.”

Castiel stares intently at the bedspread. “It’s less than two weeks until I move into my house, and I’ve been wanting to invite you to come with me. To live. It’s a two bedroom, so we could even have separate spaces to start.”

“We’ve been dating for like… a summer, and you want me to move in with you.”

“Yes, I… yes.”

“Cool. I’m in.”

Castiel leans away slightly in disbelief. “You’re… in. Just like that.”

“Cas, I almost got eaten today, I’m not afraid to move in with the dude I’m in love with.”

Castiel seems to deflate and smiles, settling back against Dean’s chest. “Wow. That was easy.”

“Like you said… hell, like we’ve _both_ said. Sometimes you just know. It's something that's crossed my mind plenty already, I just worried you might think it was too soon.”

“It doesn't feel too soon.”

“It doesn't feel too soon for me either. Although I will have to stop living my wild bachelor life...”

Castiel jabs Dean in the side in response, and Dean squeaks.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Dean says, smiling. “Do we each get a room? Are we splitting the rent and utilities down the middle? Is there room for both our cars?”

“I have no idea. Let’s worry about that later. We have time.”

“Yeah… I think right now sleep would be great.”

“Hmm, would you like me to read you to sleep?” Castiel asks.

“Mm, yes.” Dean plucks a magazine from the nightstand and hands it over.

“Alright,” Castiel says, voice gone all business like, “this is a guide to real estate trends in the nineties. This will do.”

Dean’s asleep in minutes.

 

***

 

Dean’s loading the car with their meager luggage, yawning for the billionth time since he woke up. He didn’t have any nightmares, but he’s still so tired. “I slept so long,” he whines, “how can I still be tired?”

“The body is a strange and mysterious thing,” Castiel says with a shrug.

“Well, what did you do all evening while I was conked out? Please say you did dirty things to my sleeping body.”

“I actually played Scrabble with Hael for a while.”

“You _left_?” Dean whines, closing the trunk.

“It was early. I wasn’t tired yet.”

Dean leads Castiel back toward the house. It’s breakfast time. “How was it?”

“It was pleasant. Apparently her parents have agreed to let her return to school. All she has to do is take care of requalification and she can go back in fall or winter term.”

“Wow.”

“I’m glad for her. She honestly does have a great deal of culinary talent.”

“My daughter is very special,” Becky says, entering the dining room from the opposite door and taking a seat. “I sure hope she can see it through this time.”

“Even though the house will be so very quiet and dull without her,” Marv says from his seat.

“I’m sure we’ll find some way to keep busy with her gone,” Becky says. Dean thinks that’s an odd thing to say, then realizes that Becky is staring intently at Gadreel as he sets the table. God, he can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.

Breakfast is delicious, Hael serves some sort of cheesy bacony quiche that Dean loves. It’s so delicious that even Gadreel mentioning his plans to fetch the bear corpse and use the pelt for a rug can’t stop Dean from eating. Castiel’s appetite doesn’t survive Gadreel’s remarks, however, so Dean eats his portion too. Dean would be sad to be leaving Hael’s wonderful cooking behind, but he’s moving in with an amazing cook in a couple of weeks, so he’s fine.

After breakfast, Marv looks at them with a big smile. “So, do you boys have time for another one of my stories before you go?”

Castiel looks at Dean, eyes wide.

“Oh man I wish, but me and Cas need to be back in Lawrence this afternoon,” Dean lies. “We should have gone sooner, but we couldn’t resist having Hael’s cooking one last time.” Dean throws a wink at Hael, who blushes and looks down at her plate.

He’s telling the truth. Dean would have dragged Castiel out of here at the crack of dawn if he hadn’t wanted a good breakfast. Becky strokes Hael’s hair, looking proud.

“Welp,” Dean says, stretching, “we’d better get going, or Cas will miss his… pastry seminar. This has been an extremely memorable weekend. It’s quite a place you have here.” Dean shakes everyone’s hand, lingering on his handshake with Gadreel. “You earned that rug, man. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what happened out there. You saved my life.”

“If you’re ever in Lawrence, I owe you a lifetime of free cupcakes,” Castiel says earnestly.

“I don’t eat cupcakes,” Gadreel says.

Becky slaps Gadreel over the back of the head and he winces. “He _means_ he hopes to take you up on that some day.”

Gadreel nods, offering a smile. It’s... unnerving. Like a shark trying to look friendly. Dean barely stops himself from backing away at the sight of it.

“Good luck with your studies, Hael,” Castiel says.

With that, Dean and Castiel somewhat awkwardly extract themselves from the dining room, and leave Hammond House.

Dean groans with relief as he slides behind the wheel of his Impala and closes the door. “You are _so_ planning our next trip,” he says, starting up the car.

“Yes, I think that’s for the best.”

They’re on the road for fifteen minutes when their phones start pinging with missed calls and texts.

“Woo, a sign of civilization!” Dean says. “Can you read my texts?”

Castiel digs the phone out of Dean’s pocket, giving his thigh a squeeze.

“Pervert,” Dean mutters.

“You know me, I’m quite a deviant. Your texts are all from Sam.”

“Oh, what’d he have to say?”

Castiel scrolls through the texts. “The first one says ‘Just talked to Benny, you’re an idiot.’ Next one, ‘He also mentioned they have no cell service, so I guess you won’t see this until Sunday.’ Next one, ‘But that’s fine, I’m sure you already know you’re an idiot.’ Next one, ‘Dad came by looking for you. You picked a good time to be gone, it was awkward.’ Next one, ‘He’s still looking to make amends, I guess therapy was good for him.’ Next, ‘But don’t worry I told him you need some time.’ And that’s all of them.”

“Wow. Glad I was busy getting chased by a bear. I’m just still… not ready, you know?”

“I know. He hurt you, and you’re finally letting yourself feel that hurt after years of repression.”

“Yeah… I’m glad he’s working through it, I’m just not ready.”

“You don’t have to be, Dean. You don’t have to force anything to make him happy.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

Castiel sets Dean’s phone on the dashboard, and taps a few buttons on his own, bringing it to his ear. A few seconds pass, and Dean realizes that Castiel has gone incredibly still. Dean watches out of the corner of his eye as Castiel lowers the phone, and taps another button.

“Huh,” Castiel says, staring down at his phone.

Dean’s never seen this look on Castiel’s face before, it’s freaking him out. “What is it? Who called?”

“It was Gabriel,” Castiel says slowly, “my father is dead.”


	27. Chapter 27

Dean just barely stops himself from slamming on the brakes, instead slowing the car and pulling over next to an empty field.

“There’s no need to pull over, Dean,” Castiel says blandly.

“No, I think this is a ‘pull over the car’ kind of moment, baby. What _happened_?”

“The message is only an hour or so old… Gabriel just found out this morning, but it sounds like my father died yesterday. He had a heart attack.”

“Oh, shit.”

“During sex.”

“Oh, _shit._ ”

“With his mistress.”

“Oh--”

“Shit, yes. Gabriel said he’d probably have more information by the time I got back to Lawrence. He then apologized profusely for telling me this news over the phone instead of waiting until I came home. He sounded… distressed.”

“What about you? How do you feel?”

“I don’t know. As I’ve mentioned, we were never... close, even during my time as the favorite. But… he was my father. That has meaning. I lived with him for more than half my life, and… I didn’t like him. I don’t…” Castiel stops and sighs. “Let’s just go.”

“Cas…”

“ _Please_ , Dean. It’s your turn to pick the music.”

Dean gives Castiel a long look then nods and pops open the glove compartment. “Close your eyes and pick one at random.”

Castiel obeys, closing his eyes and reaching into the pile of loose tapes. He takes one out and studies it as Dean pulls back onto the road. “I honestly can’t say I expected you to be a Spice Girls fan.”

This time Dean _does_ slam on the brakes. “WHAT?!”

“Dean, there are other cars on the road.”

Dean starts driving again. “Okay, you put that there, right?”

“No.”

“Well it’s not _mine_!”

“Are you embarrassed of this tape? Gabriel has their greatest hits CD… he used to play it on his CD player when I first moved in. It’s very catchy music, I don’t fault you for enjoying it.”

“Dude. No. It isn’t mine. Sam probably snuck it in there as a prank, just chuck it out the window.”

“We’re not going to litter twice in one weekend.”

“When the hell did we litter?”

“We left our trash in the woods.”

“We were fleeing from a damn _bear,_ Cas!”

“Regardless. You told me to pick a tape at random, this is what I ended up with.”

“Dude, this is _not_ cool.”

But Castiel is already putting the tape in. Within three songs Dean is bopping along to the music.

“This doesn’t leave the car,” Dean says, glaring at the road as his shoulders bounce of their own accord.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

 

 

 

***

 

They’re four hours into the drive before Castiel breaks down sobbing, and Dean pulls into a rest stop so he can hold him.

 

***

 

It’s about five when they get back to Lawrence and since no one is expecting Dean anywhere, he drives them both to Gabriel’s house.

Gabriel is drunk. Gabriel is impressively, profoundly drunk. When Dean and Castiel arrive at the house, Gabriel is doing shots on his couch, and there’s about a dozen empty beer cans littered about. Dean hopes they're not all from today.

“Heyyy, it’s Castiel and Dean! Deanstiel! Casdean! Cas Novak and Dean-o Winchester! Hey Dean-o Winchester, did you know Novak isn’t our _real_ last name?”

Uh, no. Dean did not know that. He looks over at Castiel, who grimaces.

“Yes, I guess that never came up. Our original last name is--”

“Adler!” Gabriel proclaims. “Castiel Adler, and Gabriel Adler, and all the other Adlers! On one’a Cassie’s birthdays I asked if he wanted a new name for our new life, an’ he said _yes_ , so we picked a new last name! So we’re the Novak bros!”

“Uh... well it’s a cool last name,” Dean says.

Gabriel looks up at Dean, ecstatic. “Isn’t it?! I like you, Dean! Come, do a shot!”

“I’m the driver.” Gabriel looks absolutely heartbroken, and Dean nudges Castiel forward. “But uh, Cas will drink with you.”

Castiel sighs.

Gabriel hastily wipes his shot glass with the hem of his shirt, then fills it and holds it out. Castiel stares at it a long moment before taking the shot and drinking it. “This is… strong.”

“Yeah. Expensive too.”

Dean and Castiel sit on either side of Gabriel on the couch.

“So, I gather you are having trouble coping with the news,” Castiel says.

“Hey,” Gabriel grumbles, “I was handling the news just fine…”

“Until?”

“Until Mom called to let me know the funeral date.”

“Funeral already? That was fast,” Dean says.

Gabriel shrugs. “Naomi Adler thrives on efficiency. Anyway, Dad’s last party’ll be Tuesday afternoon. We’re _invited_.”

“I beg your pardon?” Castiel looks very surprised to be invited to his own father’s funeral.

Gabriel launches into a high pitched voice that Dean assumes is supposed to be an impression. “Gabriel, in light of what’s happened I think it’s time the family was together again. Your father would want you and Castiel to be there.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Right? Dad wouldn’t want his two biggest disappointments anywhere near his big day.”

“But you told her we’d come, didn’t you,” Castiel says, voice flat.

Gabriel scowls at nothing in particular and takes another shot. “I told her we’d come. I hadn’t talked to her in so long, and… I didn’t even know she had my number. I was scraped raw, man. I had to hear about Dad from fucking _Michael._ I hate that guy.” Gabriel reaches for the bottle again, then sighs and pushes it away. “I’m on Adler overload right now, I thought a bit of getting drunk was in order.”

Castiel reaches for the bottle. “Yes, well… never a good idea to drink alone, Gabriel.”

“Should I um… go?” Dean asks awkwardly.

“No,” Castiel says.

“Yeah,” Gabriel says, “why would you think you need to go?”

“I uh… this seems like a family thing, and I don’t know… am I intruding?”

“No, you’re not intruding, I promise,” Castiel says.

“In that case, is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel says, “why don’t you guys tell me about your getaway?”

Dean snorts. “Oh, where to start. The woman that seemed to really want to fuck Cas _and_ her stepson, the creepy dolls all over our room, or the part where we got chased by a bear?”

“Oooh,” Gabriel says, “start with the bear.”

 

***

 

An hour and a half later, Dean and Castiel are leaving in the Impala, with Gabriel snoozing on the couch. Castiel is staring out the window, not saying anything.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dean says. Castiel turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“I think I’ll have to close the shop for the funeral. Gabriel said our usual backup is unavailable.”

“Oh, that sucks.”

“So I get to not make any money, _and_ have a terrible time being surrounded by the family that rejected me. I can’t believe we were invited. Especially me.”

“Soooo, did the invite include a plus one?”

Castiel stares. “I don’t think you want to do that, Dean.”

“Says who?”

“My family looks down on non-heterosexuals, blue collar workers, and informality. They would despise you.”

Dean takes a moment to give Castiel a sideways look.

“I’m not saying _I_ look down on you,” Castiel says, “don’t look so offended.”

“I’m offended that you think I care what _they_ think.”

“I don’t want to subject you to their hostility.”

“I want you to have support.”

“I’ll have Gabriel.”

“Well you’ll have me too.”

“ _Dean._ ”

“ _Castiel_.”

The car idles at a red light, and Castiel unbuckles his seat belt so he can lean over and wrap his arms around Dean’s neck. “Thank you.”

 

***

 

When they get back to Sam’s house, Castiel gives a brief wave to Sam and Jess in the living room before marching upstairs with their bags. Sam and Jess look at Dean, waiting for an explanation.

“It was a long weekend, he needs some kitten therapy.”

“I take it you don’t mean 'long weekend' in a good way,” Jess says.

Dean plops down in the recliner, glad to be back in familiar space.

“Come on, it can’t have been _that_ bad,” Sam says.

Dean groans. “There was no TV, internet, or cell service, we had an eight p.m.  _curfew_ , and had to eat our meals with the creepy family that runs the place.”

“Sounds awkward, but--”

“There was a problem with the room I reserved, so we had to use one that had around eighty creepy Victorian dolls on the bed, shelves, desks, and even hiding in the fucking dresser.”

“You can’t be--”

“When the wife of the owner wasn’t making big horny doe eyes at Cas, she was making them at her _stepson_.”

“What the f--”

“Cas and I got chased through the woods by a fucking bear.”

“Are you just making things up?!”

“If the stepson hadn’t been tracking us and carrying a rifle, I’d be dead or maimed right now. All I had was a Swiss Army knife.”

“Are you being serious?”

“According to Gadreel, that’s the stepson’s name, bears are normally very fast. He said it already had some previous injury, and if it hadn’t it would have caught us.”

“Jesus,” Sam mutters.

“Holy _shit,_ Dean,” Jess says.

Sam’s big puppy eyes are working over time as they look Dean over, searching for signs of injury. “Are you okay?”

Dean sighs and checks to make sure Castiel is still gone. “Honestly? No. I can’t stop thinking about it. It was so close, Sammy. I could smell it, I could literally smell my death coming.”

“Uh... what did it smell like?”

“I don’t know what other bears smell like, but this one smelled like moss. And blood. And pee.” Sam opens his mouth and Dean cuts him off. “ _No,_ it was not my pee.”

“Were you scared?” Jess asks.

“You bet your ass I was. I thought I was going to die. Cas is a faster runner than me, but I knew if the bear caught up to me he’d try to help, and then we’d both die. So I told him to keep running, that I was right behind him, and then I stopped running and took out the stupid Swiss Army knife. I thought maybe I’d stab it in the eye or something.”

Sam is visibly upset. “Jesus fucking _Christ_ Dean, that’s insane.”

Dean shudders, putting his face in his hands and leaning forward. “It was going to catch me anyway, Sam. I’m slower. I just wanted Cas to get away.”

“What matters is you’re both alive, right Sam?” Jess says, nudging Sam.

Sam nods slightly. “Yeah. Well, thank God for weird stepsons with rifles, I guess.”

“At breakfast today he was talking about going back and getting the pelt,” Dean says.

Jess wrinkles her nose in distaste. “What.”

“To make a rug.”

Sam grimaces. “Well that’s… resourceful.”

“That is one fucked up weekend, Dean,” Jess says.

“Oh, it got worse.”

“Worse than almost getting mauled by a bear?”

“Okay maybe not _worse,_ but still pretty bad. When we got close enough to civilization to actually have cell service again, Cas found out his dad died.”

“Woah,” Sam says.

“Did you guys recently piss off an evil witch or something?” Jess says.

“I don’t even know, man. From what I know about Cas’ family, they’re a bunch of stuck up asshole conservatives, and Cas and Gabe haven’t wanted anything to do with them for over a decade. But they’re invited to the funeral Tuesday. I may have invited myself along as well.”

Sam snorts. “That’s going to be a show.”

“I can behave,” Dean insists.

“You sure?” Sam asks.

“I’m sure. Really, pretty sure.”

“Uh huh.”

Dean stretches his arms over his head in faux nonchalance. “Well hey, even if I fuck it all up, Cas doesn’t like them anyway.”

“I hope you won’t take that as an excuse to cause a ruckus,” Castiel says, coming into the room. “It’s still a funeral.” He drops into Dean’s lap, cradling Ezekiel in his arms and forcing an ‘oof!’ out of Dean. “Did you tell them the exciting news?”

Dean reaches around Castiel to pet Ezekiel. “About the bear?”

“No.”

“About your father?”

“Wrong again.” Castiel turns so he can see Dean, and Dean stares back, trying to figure out what he means. After a long moment it hits him and he grins, wrapping his arms around Castiel and squeezing.

“Wow, don’t know how _that_ slipped my mind. So, I’m moving out in a couple of weeks.”

Dean chooses to ignore Sam’s initial reaction of shooting a sad look at Ezekiel.

“Wow, you’re moving into the new place with Cas _and_ meeting his family? Big steps!” Sam says.

“I am ninety percent sure this will go better than the last time,” Dean says.

Castiel looks affronted. “I beg your pardon?”

“Hey now. With Lisa I was only thirty percent sure.”

“It’s true,” Sam says, “he did say that.”

“And you still moved in?” Castiel says, sounding confused.

“I was--”

Sam cuts Dean off. “An idiot.”

“Shut up, Sam. I was caught up in this idea that I was supposed to, because we’d been dating a certain amount of time. I mean I liked her and shit, but I wasn’t sure about it at all. I don't even know if I _wanted_ to move in.”

Jess smirks. “And now?”

Dean squeezes Castiel again. “I want.”

Sam smiles. “Well, I’m going to miss you Dean.”

“Think of all the loud sex you’ll be able to have with me gone.”

Jess claps her hands together in excitement. “Amen to that!”

 

***

 

Monday is fairly exhausting and repetitive, with Dean relaying the same story over and over at work. He should have just held a staff meeting to tell the tales of his weekend to everyone at once.

RECEIVED - 08/04/14 - 11:39am - Gabriel has convinced me to close the shop on Wednesday as well.

RECEIVED - 08/04/14 - 11:40am - In case we want to get incredibly drunk after seeing my family.

SENT - 08/04/14 - 11:48am - Good call. You doing okay?

RECEIVED - 08/04/14 - 11:53am - I’ve never known myself to be a stress eater, but I sat in the office and ate a piping bag’s worth of frosting about twenty minutes ago.

SENT - 08/04/14 - 12:01pm - That sounds like a great idea, save me some.

RECEIVED - 08/04/14 - 12:03pm - How about you? How are you feeling?

SENT - 08/04/14 - 12:11pm - Thinking I should make a brochure about my weekend and pass it out to everyone.

RECEIVED - 08/04/14 - 12:20pm - It wouldn’t be as cathartic.

SENT - 08/04/14 - 12:22pm - I wonder if I should tell my mom about the bear.

SENT - 08/04/14 - 12:25pm - Or maybe I’m done talking about it for now.

RECEIVED - 08/04/14 - 12:27pm - Yes, conserve your energy for tomorrow.

SENT - 08/04/14 - 12:38pm - I feel like you’re trying to scare me.

RECEIVED - 08/04/14 - 12:46pm - Dean, have you ever been in a room full of judgmental, mourning, bitter conservatives?

SENT - 08/04/14 - 1:03pm - Well no.

RECEIVED - 08/04/14 - 1:13pm - I just don’t want them to make you feel like less than the amazing man you are.

SENT - 08/04/14 - 1:17pm - Well it’s a good thing I don’t care what they think.

RECEIVED - 08/04/14 - 1:19pm - Well, we’ll see.

SENT - 08/04/14 - 1:20pm - Oooo, so ominous.

 


	28. Chapter 28

Dean doesn’t have a "funeral suit", so on Tuesday he dresses in black slacks, a dark grey button up shirt, and a black tie from Sam. Castiel and Gabriel are both in somber black suits, although Gabriel is wearing a Spongebob Squarepants tie for some reason. Dean can’t stop staring at it once they arrive at an unremarkable church in Overland Park.

“At least I’m wearing a suit!” Gabriel snaps.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You were thinking it,” Gabriel grumbles.

“Castiel. Gabriel. You made it,” a man says from behind them.

Dean watches as Castiel violently shudders and turns toward the parking lot. A black haired man approaches them, eyes narrowing in disapproval at Gabriel’s tie.

“Hey, Mikey! Long time!” Gabriel says cheerfully.

“Fourteen years I believe,” Michael says. “Fourteen years since you abandoned your family.”

“Hey, I loved you guys. I just loved me more. Them’s the breaks.”

“We were stronger without you.”

To his credit, Gabriel doesn’t even look hurt. “Well then, why aren’t you thanking me for making the family stronger?”

“Can you please at least wait until we’re inside before you start fighting?” A woman walks up, scowling at the bickering brothers. She’s older than Dean, with long almost-blond hair.

“Rachel,” Castiel says with a nod.

“Castiel. You’re looking healthy,” Rachel says.

“Wow it’s already a party!” Gabriel says.

Rachel nods toward the church. “Let’s get inside, most of the family is already here.”

Dean awkwardly follows the Novaks and Adlers into the church. He hasn’t been in one in years, since he was a kid and attending a funeral for Bobby’s wife. He associates churches with grief, and today won’t be doing anything to alter that.

The air inside feels stale, and a little suffocating. He can hear a buzz of conversation from elsewhere in the building, but in the lobby there’s only a large handful of people, watching them walk in with a variety of displeased expressions on their faces. Why did he volunteer for this?

“Hey, gang!” Gabriel says, waving enthusiastically. “So happy to see your smiling faces!”

A blond man glares and Dean sighs. _This_ is why Dean needs to be here. Gabriel wears his snark and sarcasm like a shield. Dean doesn’t know how effective Gabriel’s defense mechanism is, but he doubts it’s of any comfort to Castiel.

“Back for less than a minute and already engaging in theatrics,” the blond says.

“You know me, Lucy. Love a good show,” Gabriel says.

Lucy. That makes this guy Lucifer. Dean should have asked for pictures or descriptions or something before he came. There is so much tension in the air Dean feels like he could choke on it. He wants to take Castiel’s hand, but he realizes he never asked how much he should be letting on about who he is to Castiel.

“Well perhaps it would behoove you to cut the obnoxious behavior down for the duration of Father’s _funeral_ , Gabriel,” Lucifer says, voice dripping with disdain.

Gabriel opens his mouth to reply, but Castiel cuts him off. “Gabriel, we’ve only just arrived.”

“Ah, he speaks,” Lucifer says.

Castiel sets Lucifer with a glare, and Lucifer takes a brief step back before he realizes what he’s doing and sneers. God, what a bizarre dynamic. Some of them actually look afraid of Castiel, and Dean has no idea if it’s the gay thing or something else. One of them, a man with wavy brown hair, is staring at Dean with an intense and puzzled look. He looks older than some of the siblings, so he can’t be Samandriel, which means the shy looking young man in the corner is Samandriel, and this guy staring must be Ion. The young redhead must be Anna, and the older woman with streaks of grey in her red hair is Naomi. Dean’s quite the detective.

“Lucifer, Gabriel, I wanted my children to have the opportunity to say goodbye to their father,” Naomi says. “ _All_ of my children. But if you cannot behave, I want you to leave.” Naomi looks around the room, expression cold. “That goes for everyone here. Your differences have no place here. Air them out at another time. Perhaps the reception is a more appropriate time for your petty bickering.”

“Woah,” Gabriel says, “you didn’t say anything about a reception.”

Naomi sighs. “Must have slipped my mind.”

Everyone looks surprised at that, and Dean gathers this is an out of character moment for the Adler matriarch.

Naomi checks the clock on the wall. “Just a few more minutes and we can file in.”

Dean wants to ask why they’re filing in at the last minute, but maybe it’s some weird Adler thing.

“Don’t I know you?” Ion says, looking at Dean again.

Dean grows uncomfortable as the Adlers seem to suddenly realize there’s an outsider in the room with them. “Uh, I don’t think so.”

“You haven’t introduced us to your guest, Gabriel, Castiel,” Michael says, eyeing Dean with distaste.

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Oh, where are my manners? Dean, this is Naomi, Michael, Lucifer, Rachel, Ion, Anna, and Samandriel Adler. Adlers, this is Dean Winchester.”

“And Dean is…” Michael starts. There’s an awkward pause, and Dean gets the feeling Michael has already figured out exactly who Dean is to Gabriel and Castiel.

“I’m the driver,” Dean says.

Gabriel snorts and Castiel straightens up, leveling Michael with a hard look. “Dean is my boyfriend, he came for support.”

Ion stops staring at Dean long enough to look at Castiel. “And you think Father would have approved of you bringing your homosexual lover to his funeral?”

Castiel’s tone is so frosty Dean can practically feel the temperature in the room drop. “I didn’t come for anyone’s approval, I came to say goodbye to him. If I wasn’t allowed to bring my loved ones, someone should have informed me.”

“Considering how father felt, you can’t have thought this would be appropriate.”

“Are you asking me to leave, Ion?”

“No!” Naomi cuts in. “No one is leaving unless _I_ ask, and Ion, you are on thin ice.”

“But he--”

“Are you going to make me repeat myself?!”

“No, Mother.”

“Alright.” Naomi looks at the clock again, straightening her dark blazer and tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Alright, line up. The usual order.” She looks over at Dean. “How old are you?”

“Uh… I turned thirty in January,” Dean says.

“Alright then, you’ll be behind Castiel.”

Everyone gets into line, and Dean realizes they’re arranging themselves from youngest to oldest. Holy shit this is weird. When the clock strikes ten, Naomi opens the double doors leading to the main room. Dean tries to keep his head facing forward the way the others are, but he can feel eyes on him. He tries to focus on the back of Castiel’s head as they make their way to the front.

For a moment, it works. There are no unfriendly people watching them, there is no expensive coffin in front of the pulpit with a dead bald man inside, no frowning clergy member standing behind it. There’s only Castiel’s neck, the collar of his black suit jacket, the soft brown hairs at his nape. For a few slow seconds Dean calms, then the family starts filing into one of the pews at the front and he’s back to discomfort.

The man at the front… the Reverend? Minister? Pastor? Dean didn’t even check to see what kind of church this is… the man raises his hand in greeting. He looks so severe and disapproving. Shouldn’t the guy try exuding some sympathy and love?

“That’s Raphael,” Castiel says into Dean’s ear, and Dean barely holds in his startled yelp.

Once everyone is seated, Raphael begins the service. He talks about Zachariah Adler being called home to God, and how the world will miss him. He talks about Zachariah’s relationship with the church they’re in now, and about the wife and many children he leaves behind, and it’s all so hollow. There’s no heart or warmth to any of it, and Dean wonders if that has to do with Zachariah, or if Raphael is just like that.

“And now, Naomi Adler has told me she has some things she’d like to say about her husband, so I’ll give her the floor.”

If the surprised murmurs are anything to go by, people weren’t expecting this. Naomi stands, straightening her clothes and making her way up to the microphone.

“As you know, Zachariah was taken from us this weekend. You all know that he was a prominent member of this church, that he was vice president of Sandover, that he raised his children with a firm hand in the hopes that they would follow in his footsteps. That is the Zachariah Adler you and I all know. But there was another Zachariah, one that showed his face after the heart attack, and lingered until death came just a few hours later.”

Naomi glances at the coffin tenderly.

“We had grown apart. A long, long time ago, really. There is no phrase to use other than ‘loveless marriage’.”

Another disquieted series of whispers ripples through the room. This is a weird fucking funeral.

“In that hospital, on his death bed, Zachariah looked at me with such profound _sadness_ in his eyes. He told me that he knew why he’d had his heart attack. His heart had gone bad from lack of use. He said he’d spent so many years not using his heart to love, that now it was too weak to keep him alive.”

A tear rolls down Naomi’s cheek, and Dean hears Castiel gasp.

“He… _we_ treated our children like soldiers and business partners. We taught them to fear God, but we didn’t teach anything about His love. One of our sons left the family because he craved freedom… from us. That was what the note he left said. Another son left the family because we gave him two options… renounce his homosexuality, or be cast out… and our brave son chose to be true to himself.”

Castiel grabs Dean’s hand, squeezing it painfully tight. Dean glances around, the Adler siblings all look gobsmacked as Naomi continues.

“In my entire life, I have not seen Zachariah shed a single tear, but he wept then. He wept as he told me that he would never have the chance to make things right with the children he drove away, nor the ones that remained in his life. He told me he was terrified that the love he withheld from his children added a weight to his soul, and that the weight would drag him to Hell when he passed.”

Naomi pauses, rubbing at the edges of the microphone stand with her thumbs.

“I don’t know if his confession eased that weight enough to set his soul free, but I hope it did, and I hope I can ease the weight on my own soul by sharing all this with you.”

Naomi’s voice cracks, and Castiel manages to squeeze Dean’s hand even harder.

“Control, obedience, _money._ They mean nothing without love. I have a family full of children that never found love, because the ones that stayed never got a chance to see what love truly is.”

Wow, did she just tell a room full of people that her kids are all spinsters? Naomi sighs, looking now at the pew holding all her children.

“Don’t make the mistakes my husband and I made. Without love and compassion, faith and a belief in God will only get you so far. Find a way to let unconditional love into your heart.”

Naomi steps down, all but fleeing down the aisle and out of the service. There’s a long, tense pause, then Castiel stands, heading after his mother with Dean scrambling after him.

Naomi is in the lobby, stoically drinking a plastic cup of water. Dean hears the sound of someone talking on the microphone as the service continues without them.

“Mother,” Castiel says.

“Castiel.”

“Did… did he really say all of that?”

Naomi sighs, setting her cup down. “No." Castiel's shoulders slump. "Your father’s last words were that he wanted _Chastity_ to be given his Rolls Royce, and that I looked much younger when I wore my hair down.”

What the fuck? She made it all up?

“Chastity?” Castiel asks.

“Yes, his mistress. The crying blonde in the last pew. Did you not notice her? Her sobs seemed so loud to me.”

“Why then… why did you say…”

Naomi frowns at her hand, still wrapped around her cup. “Your father may not have had a sudden epiphany about all the ways he failed as a parent, and a person in general, but I did, and I wanted to pass that along in a way that had… an impact.”

“You used the social leverage afforded by Father’s _funeral_ for your own agenda.”

“Yes.”

“That seems…”

“If it manages to have a positive effect on someone in that room, then I will have no regrets.”

“I’ve never known you to lie, Mother.”

“But you suspected anyway.”

“I’ve never known Father to have a change of heart, either.”

“Well let’s keep this between the three of us, shall we?”

Castiel looks over at Dean, and seems surprised to see him. Maybe Dean should have cleared his throat or something to make his presence known.

“Your brothers and sisters need to believe in this,” Naomi says. “I need them to believe in this.”

“You want me to lie for you. The last time we spoke, you told me I came off the line with a crack in my chassis.”

Dean is not going to punch a widow, he is _not_ going to punch a widow.

“I was wrong. Look at me,” Naomi says, waiting until Castiel is looking at her before continuing. “I was _wrong_. I won’t ask for your forgiveness.” She glances at the door. “Or theirs. But I will do what I can to repair the things I spent years destroying.”

Dean can’t help himself. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“You’re not wrong,” Naomi says.

“This is… I need to go,” Castiel says, looking distressed.

Naomi seems resigned. “Of course. The burial is in an hour… the reception an hour after that, at the house. You’re both welcome, if you decide to come.”

Castiel nods and grabs Dean’s hand, pulling him out of the church. They walk to the Impala in silence, climb inside in silence, and for a long moment they sit in silence.

“So,” Dean finally says. Castiel’s phone vibrates with a new text and he groans, fishing it out of his suit coat.

“Oh,” Castiel says, “whoops.”

“Whoops?”

“We forgot someone,” Castiel says, typing a reply.

“Oh. Ha!”

“I told him we’ll be waiting in the parking lot when the service is over.”

“Yeah alright,” Dean says, drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel.

“I know you want to ask how I’m doing.”

“You seem a bit tense, Cas.”

“I don’t know how to process the last twenty minutes.”

“I feel you.”

“Even when she does the right thing, she does it the wrong way. Profoundly wrong. She’s turned what would have been a _monumental_ amount of growth on her part into a rather public web of lies.”

“Baby steps, I guess.”

Castiel sighs. “Perhaps.”

“What can I do, Cas?”

“I don’t…” Castiel trails off, eyes sort of glazing over. “You did once say you’d fuck me in the waiting room of a funeral parlor. I think maybe that would make me feel better.”

Dean’s about to protest when he remembers he actually _did_ say that. He looks around. It’s daytime, but there’s no one milling about in the parking lot. “How about a handjob in the backseat of my car?”

Castiel nods solemnly and climbs into the backseat of the Impala.

 

***

 

Dean’s wiping his hand clean with an old wet wipe from Big Al’s Rib Shack when there’s a rapping on the window, and Gabriel’s scowling face comes into view. Castiel and Dean exit the car so they can move into the front..

“Heya Gabe,” Dean says, “just in time.”

“I’m sure it would be, if I hadn’t gotten here three minutes ago.”

Oops. Castiel shrugs and yawns, giving Gabriel a slow, sated smile. “It happens.”

“It _happens_? Who the hell _are_ you?”

“If it helps, you’re not the first person to walk in on us,” Dean offers.

“Why the hell would that help? I walked out of my father’s funeral and saw my baby brother’s _dick_.”

“Okay, if it helps, I could take us to Baskin Robbins before the burial.”

Gabriel’s entire face changes in an instant. “Well what the hell are we standing here for? Let’s get to it!”

 

***

 

They end up skipping the burial. Castiel has no desire to see his father’s body again, and Gabriel decided he could say his heartfelt goodbyes in his own head while eating ice cream. So instead of heading for the cemetery, they kill time slowly eating their massive ice cream treats while Gabriel fills them in on all the boring speeches they missed after leaving the service.

“This is so good, but I’ve had better,” Gabriel says, eating another spoonful.

“I should hope so,” Castiel says.

“You need to make me ice cream,” Dean says.

“Hey, I made you a milkshake, does that count for nothing?”

Gabriel smirks. “Did it bring all the boys to the yard?”

“Oh Christ,” Castiel says, shaking his head.

“Speaking of, I guess we might as well get going. So excited!” Gabriel says, full of mock enthusiasm.

“Oh, you look it,” Dean says.

Gabriel’s smile turns genuine. “I can’t wait to see the mood. My homophobic ice queen of a mother decides that love is the answer and that it’s okay to be gay? Come on, that’s great stuff.”

“Maybe she can see Dr. Moseley with my dad,” Dean says.

“That a shrink?”

“Yeah. For my dad’s homophobia.”

“Wow. And no one had to _die_ for him to do that?”

“Yeah, well he loves my mom more than he loves a bunch of antiquated notions, I guess.”

“Better than some fake story about a deathbed confession.”

“Figured that out, huh?”

“Mother feels her change of heart will have a bigger impact that way,” Castiel says. They leave the shop and pile into the car.

“Yeah, well those other idiots will believe anything she tells them,” Gabriel says.

“Maybe in this case it’s for the best. A blessing.”

“A few minutes in a church, and you’re full of God and blessings, huh?”

Dean starts the car. “Gabriel, I will leave your ass here.”

“Gabriel, please,” Castiel says softly.

“Besides. A woman like your mom, and a stubborn man like my dad, both trying to change their ways? Sounds like a miracle to me,” Dean says, grinning.

“Do you even _believe_ in God?” Gabriel snaps.

“No, not really. But I can believe in miracles for a day if I feel like it. Now are we going to sit here all day, or does someone want to give me directions?”

 

***

 

The Adler mansion is fucking huge. Dean’s pretty sure Sam’s house, Castiel’s bakery, and the damn Hammond House could all fit inside with no problem.

“You guys never told me you were rich as balls, holy shit.”

“Uh, we’re not,” Gabriel says. “Left the family, remember?”

“I feel like I’m too dirty and poor to even _park_ here.”

“You are. You’re not even wearing a suit coat, are you a barbarian?”

“You’re wearing a _Spongebob tie_.”

“Stop stalling,” Castiel interrupts, “it’s time to go inside.”

Dean groans.

Into the fray again.


	29. Chapter 29

Inside the Adler Mansion is just as massive, beautiful, and impersonal as it is on the outside. Off-white walls with gold trim, tasteful somewhat religious art… is this Heaven’s waiting room? Dean looks around the entrance area, uncomfortable.

“This must have been a fun house to grow up in,” Dean mutters.

“Well at least upstairs there was a room full of awesome toys and video games. We had a lot of fun here!” Gabriel says.

“Really?”

Gabriel snorts. “No. We had a library and a gym.”

“Well, look who’s here,” Lucifer says, walking over.

“Kinda thought there’d be a butler here from the look of the place,” Dean says, looking around.

“He’s assisting the caterers,” Lucifer says, looking puzzled when Dean chuckles.

“Well, lead the way Lucy,” Gabriel says, holding his hands out like someone awaiting handcuffs. Lucifer grunts and leads them into the next room.

The reception is... weird. Dean feels like he’s at a fancy buffet instead of a post-funeral gathering. No one even looks _sad_. They all just look bored and important. Dean, Castiel, and Gabriel stand awkwardly by one of the tables of food, watching the “mourners”.

“Is this a… typical funeral for a religious family?” Dean asks.

“Well the Adlers aren’t _just_ religious assholes,” Gabriel says, “they’re also wealthy bureaucrats. If you asked one of them to choose money or God, most of them would choose cold, hard cash.”

“And you’re an expert on this family?” Michael snaps. Dean didn’t even see him and Lucifer approach.

“Yes. I am,” Gabriel says, turning to Michael. “You see Dean, you’re getting a glimpse of Overland Park high society here.”

“Kansas has high society?”

Michael looks Dean over. “Higher than some, anyway.”

“Well someone’s got their claws out today,” Lucifer says, sounding perkier than he did before.

“It’s cool,” Dean says, “it’s pretty clear that you guys weren’t exactly given enough hugs as kids.”

Michael glares and storms away, with Lucifer snickering as he follows.

“This is so much fun,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but this _is_ sort of fun,” Gabriel says, popping a piece of prosciutto wrapped melon in his mouth.

“That’s because you’re sick,” Castiel grumbles.

“Maybe I’m in pain over the death of my father and using humor as an outlet for my grief.”

Castiel raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Gabriel, who snorts and continues eating.

“Seems a little inappropriate,” a woman says. From what Dean figured out earlier, the pretty frowning redhead is Anna.

“Hello, Anna,” Castiel says.

“Castiel.”

“Great service, huh sis?” Gabriel says, holding up a glass of wine in a mock toast.

“If you say so,” Anna says shortly.

“You’re mad because Mommy admitted she and Daddy were cruel bigots who didn’t love each other, and now you don’t know your place in the world,” Gabriel says, and wow. Harsh.

Anna frowns. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Well you’re young, Anna. It’s not too late to… not be Mom and Dad,” Gabriel says, sounding almost kind.

“Where do I even start?”

“Start with a new church, Raphael is a dick. Don’t give me that look, Mom said love was important, and you’re not going to get that from the old church, Anna.”

Anna sighs and nods, moving on to other guests.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be by the food,” Gabriel says, “people keep coming to talk.”

“Then we’d be _away from the food_ ,” Dean says. He can’t imagine standing around without a table full of food to distract him.

Castiel pokes at Dean’s stomach. “I can’t believe you two are even hungry. We ate _so much_ ice cream.”

“It’s a coping mechanism,” Gabriel says, mouth full of food.

“Charming as ever, Gabriel,” Rachel says. Dean’s pretty sure the Adler siblings are teleporting over here or something, they keep showing up out of the blue.

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “So it’s your turn, then? Are you guys rolling dice to decide who has to come over here?”

Rachel smiles softly, patting Gabriel’s cheek. “The house was so boring once you left, Gabriel.”

She smiles at Castiel and the startled Gabriel and walks away, nodding at the final two Adler siblings as they come to the table.

“And last of the awkward greetings goes to Ion and Samandriel!” Gabriel says.

“Yeah, well…” Ion mutters something under his breath.

“I just realized what this is. _Mom_ made you all come and say hello, didn’t she?”

Samandriel looks down awkwardly at his feet. “Mother only wishes to mend what is broken, Gabriel.”

“Yeah well, I don’t think most of them got the memo, judging by all the snide remarks,” Gabriel says.

“Perhaps they are going off of _your_ attitude,” Ion barks.

Gabriel opens his mouth to reply, but Samandriel interrupts. “Don’t I know you?”

Dean realizes Samandriel is talking to _him_. “Uh?”

“That’s what I thought too,” Ion says.

“I don’t think we run in the same circles,” Dean says.

Samandriel’s eyes widen suddenly and he takes a step back. “I remember! You threatened to beat us up!”

Gabriel makes an odd choking sound. “Are you serious?!”

Oh _that’s_ where Dean knows them from.

“Right! In the parking lot of the abortion clinic! The angry man with the sexually transmitted disease,” Ion says triumphantly.

Gabriel laughs. “Ewww.”

“You threatened to beat up my brothers?” Castiel says slowly.

“Hey I’d _just_ found out about Lisa, I was at Planned Parenthood to get tested, and these two ass monkeys were hassling me for supporting the damn _abortion industry_ or whatever. They had these nasty signs with dead babies on them, and they were invading my personal space, and so I reacted,” Dean says. He doesn’t know whether to to find this all hilarious or horrifying.

“It was a favor for our church,” Samandriel says meekly.

“Yeah, well it was a shitty favor,” Dean growls. Ion recoils. “You fucks got no right telling anyone what to do with their bodies, and,” Dean jabs a finger at Ion, stepping toward him, “if I had known then what I know now, what you did to Cas, I would have beaten the shit out of you. You know what? I still might.”

There’s a thick, tangible tension that only gets broken by Gabriel’s exasperated voice. “For fuck’s sake, Cas, keep it in your pants, there are _mourners_ present.”

Dean glances over at Castiel, who is staring back with undisguised want. He grins. “You need some fucking therapy, Cas.”

Castiel blushes, stuffing a handful of cheese in his mouth and chewing with enthusiasm. Dean turns back to Ion, whose look of fear is warring with one of disgust.

“Don’t mind Cas,” Dean says, “he’s got some kind of fetish for random acts of violence.”

Samandriel and Ion stare, mouths hanging open.

Gabriel laughs. “Oh man, I am _so_ glad we brought you.” He looks over at Ion and Samandriel. “Oh lighten up, at least you didn’t catch them going at it in Dean’s car like I did.”

Samandriel is beet red. “In a _car_?”

“Way to sound like a virgin, little guy,” Gabriel says.

“Well I’m unmarried,” Samandriel says, “of course I’m still…”

“So you guys all wait for marriage?” Dean asks.

“Of course,” Ion says.

“And none of you have been married.”

Gabriel is gleeful. “Nope!”

“Wow,” Dean says, “I hope you at least know how to fly solo.”

Gabriel bursts into laughter so loud people turn to stare, and Samandriel and Ion slink away in embarrassment. Not even a minute goes by before Naomi seems to materialize next to them, and Dean only barely manages not to jump away in surprise.

“Castiel, Gabriel. I’d like to speak with you in your father’s office.”

Castiel looks conflicted. “But Dean--”

“Seems like he’s been doing a good job holding his own, don’t you think?”

Oh Jesus, was she watching? Dean shrugs and nods. “No worries, Cas. I’ll just be here eating my weight in cubed cheese.”

“Maybe you should go with the caviar instead,” Gabriel says, “you’re _asking_ to get constipated after all that ice cream earlier.”

Naomi looks at Gabriel in absolute disgust before leading the Novak brothers away.

Dean decides to heed Gabriel’s advice, concentrating his eating efforts on the non-dairy options on the table. The caviar is too salty for Dean’s tastes, but there’s a tray piled with toothpick-bearing meatballs that are delicious. Dean eats his fill, wondering which Adler is going to show up next wanting a chat.

It turns out to be Michael, who comes up to pick casually at the cheese tray.

“He’s so different now,” Michael says casually.

“Which he?”

“Castiel. Gabriel is _exactly_ the same as he ever was. Castiel, though. He has so much emotion in his eyes now. He looks at you with love, he looks at Gabriel with warmth, and us… us he looks at with pity. The Castiel I knew before only ever wore expressions of determination or disinterest. Castiel was the best of us, and until his... fall… we all envied him. Even me, the eldest brother. We wanted his focus, his intelligence, the praise he received. And now that I’ve seen him as he is in his new life, I am envious all over again.”

“You’re jealous of the gay pastry chef dating a mechanic? Seems like you’d find all that beneath you.”

Michael shrugs awkwardly. “We weren’t allowed to take spouses until Father was satisfied with our success and contribution to the church and the company. At forty years old I’d finally been given _permission_ to marry, and the woman I’d had my eye on for years is married with a child on the way. If I had been like Castiel and Gabriel, and let go of the notion that my parents knew what was best for me, perhaps that would be my child growing in Eve’s body. Instead, what do I have?”

“A shit ton of money?” Dean offers.

Michael smiles, a real smile, and suddenly he looks ten years younger. “I suppose that will have to do for now.” He looks at Dean thoughtfully. “What’s he like?”

“Kind. Cas is kind, and he’s sweet, and he’s honest. He has a jealous streak a mile wide some days, and he’s so embarrassed about it. His cooking is amazing, and he recently discovered he’s a cat person. He’s open to trying new things, but he’s also content with routine. He’s funny when I least expect it… he’s awesome…” Dean knows he’s gushing, but it’s hard to stop. “While I can’t actually speak for him, I think that if any of you guys decided you wanted to be in his life, he’s forgiving enough to do what he can to make that happen. Uh, but don’t quote me on that. I mean Cas and I still have plenty to learn about each other. We just met in the spring.”

“This spring?”

“Yeah. Whirlwind romance I guess. But we’re _right_ together in a way neither of us was with anyone else. We fit. Sometimes you just know, you know?”

Michael smiles, a little sadly this time. “I can’t say that I do. But maybe someday.”

 

***

 

Dean’s just finished horrifying Michael with the story of his Hammond House weekend when Castiel and Gabriel return, looking a bit on the tired side. Michael nods at them both and moves on to other guests.

“It looked like you were having a friendly conversation with _Michael_ ,” Gabriel says, immediately going for the food.

“Stranger things have happened,” Dean says. “What did your mom want?”

“She wanted to… play catch up. She wanted to hear about what we’ve been up to.”

“Aww.”

“Shut up,” Gabriel grumbles, “what did Michael want?”

“Pretty much the same, actually. He seemed pretty down. You guys should get him laid,” Dean says. Gabriel makes a gagging sound and Dean smirks. “Hell, I say you take all the Adler siblings to a bar and be their wingmen.”

“I would rather roll around in broken glass and dive into a vat of salt than try to get all my brothers and sisters _laid_ ,” Castiel says.

Dean chuckles. “So, that’s a no?”

 

***

 

Later, when Dean and Castiel are curled up in Dean’s bed, Castiel ruminates on their day. “That wasn’t nearly as horrible as I expected. I didn’t need to take tomorrow off after all.”

“Well,” Dean says, kissing the top of Castiel’s head, “I took the day off too. Why don’t we go on a Jar date?”

Castiel makes a happy sound, squeezing Dean tight. “What did you have in mind?”

“Not sure… do you want fun, romantic, or adventurous?”

Castiel grunts. “I think I’ve had my fill of adventure for the time being.”

“Yeah… you think Gadreel’s made that rug yet?”

“Oh, God.”

“Let’s go with something fun. How do you feel about mini golf?”

“Interesting. What does the winner get?”

Dean strokes his chin, thinking. “A blowjob?”

“Hmmm, an exciting prize,” Castiel says, shifting so that he can kiss Dean. “I’m sure it will be even more exciting if we don’t have sex tonight.”

“Uh, I don’t know about that.”

“Think of how much more rewarding a win will be with some saved up sexual energy.”

“Aw, come on.”

“Think of all that incentive to win.”

“This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Yes,” Castiel says, nibbling at Dean’s neck, “it is.”

 

***

 

Dean ends his Wednesday with a victory, a spectacular blowjob, and a new lifetime ban, this time from Lawrence Family Putt Putt Palace.


	30. Chapter 30

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:19pm - My dad just came by.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:20pm - Guess he got impatient waiting for me to contact him.

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 1:24pm - Pushy.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:29pm - I was going to tell him to piss off, but I thought about the funeral and all that. idk.

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 1:30pm - idk?

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:31pm - You have weird pop culture knowledge gaps. It means I don’t know.

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 1:33pm - I am so lucky to have you fill in the gaps.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:35pm - Yeah I’ll fill in your gaps, baby.

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 1:36pm - How did things go with your father?

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:38pm - Well aren’t you a mood killer?

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 1:39pm - :)

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:43pm - It was so damn uncomfortable.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:45pm - He thought I wasn’t talking to him because of the last time I saw him.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:48pm - He didn’t get that it went deeper.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:49pm - He seemed pretty sad and disappointed. I felt like a dick.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:51pm - I don’t want him to suddenly die and we have all this unfinished shit between us.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:52pm - But I can’t force myself to reconcile either.

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 1:56pm - Dean, all you can do is try. That’s all either of you can do, and you ARE trying.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 1:59pm - I don’t even know what he wants, man. We haven’t been close in a long, long time.

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 2:03pm - I suppose he is like my mother, looking to be free of a weight he’s shackled to himself.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 2:09pm - They really should hang out and talk about what it’s like to be recovering homophobes.

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 2:17pm - Please don’t speak things like that into existence.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 2:20pm - Whoops! Now they’re besties!

SENT - 08/08/14 - 2:21pm - Do you have any boxes at the shop? I need some boxes.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 2:22pm - Cause I’m moving in with you.

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 2:30pm - Do you not have boxes where you work?

SENT - 08/08/14 - 2:32pm - I was thinking boxes from a bakery might smell good.

SENT - 08/08/14 - 2:33pm - The boxes here smell like motor oil.

RECEIVED - 08/08/14 - 2:37pm - And people call ME weird.

SENT- 08/08/14 -2:40pm - See if any of them smell like pie!!

  
***

 

On Thursday night, Sam walks in while Dean is staring at his belongings, surfing a wave of melancholy.

“Oh yes, that’s the look of a man about to move into a new home with the one he loves,” Sam says.

“Can it, Samsquatch.”

“Seriously though, you look so _sad._ ”

“I’m annoyed. This is my stuff. This is _all_ my stuff. Shouldn’t I have more? I’m thirty.”

“You’re upset that you don’t have more _stuff_?”

“Annoyed. I said annoyed.”

“Who the hell cares how much _stuff_ you have, Dean?!”

“I’m bringing like no stuff, and I barely have any savings, and I’m not even working full time,” Dean says, not making eye contact.

“Aww Dean, do you not feel like a good provider?”

Dean growls and punches Sam in the arm so hard Sam’s eyes water a little. His cocky grin stays, however.

“This is why I don’t talk about my _feelings_ with you, Sam!”

“Okay, okay,” Sam says, rubbing his arm, “I’m sorry. It’s just… why the hell do you care? It’s not a competition.”

“But I should--”

“Dean, don’t even start that. You get all caught up in that ‘should’ shit. All that matters is how you and Castiel feel, okay? You’re not _required_ to bring in a certain amount of money and furniture. Don’t start sabotaging yourself.”

Dean blinks. Is Sam right? Sam might be right. Worrying about what he "should" do was what lead him down the wrong path with Lisa, Dean knows that.

“You’re right,” he says slowly.

“What, really?” Sam looks incredibly surprised.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Wow, that was easy. So, are you thankful enough to--”

“You can’t keep Cas’ kitten, Sam!”

“Ingrate!”

 

***

 

They’re free to move in on Friday, but decide to wait until Saturday so they can do it during the day. Dean borrows Ash’s truck for the bargain price of one six pack of Pabst and a box of cupcakes from Angel Cakes, and they get to moving. They start with Castiel’s stuff at Gabriel’s. Dean hasn’t seen or heard about Castiel buying any books in the past month or so, and yet he has two more boxes of them than he did during the move to Gabriel’s. They’re going to need a bigger bookshelf. They load up Castiel’s books, his clothes, his kitchenware, and on the second trip, they’ll get the bed.

When Dean pulls up to the house, he looks around and starts laughing, hard.

“What?” Castiel says, looking around for the source of Dean’s outburst.

“I just realized this is my first time seeing the place,” Dean says, calming down. “All this moving in stuff and I never bothered to check it out. This is Hammond House all over again.”

“I _assure you_ it’s not. Anyway, the rental agreement is in my name, so if you hate it here… tough shit. You’re still moving in.”

Dean snorts. “It always catches me off guard when you swear.”

“I am looking forward to fucking you in every room of our new home.”

And just like that, Dean’s dick is up and ready for some fun.

Castiel smirks, then opens the truck door. “Those boxes aren’t going to move themselves, Dean.”

 

***

 

After moving Castiel’s bed over to the house, they head to Sam’s to get Dean’s stuff.

“We’re such a fancy couple, Cas,” Dean says, pushing his twin mattress into the truck. “We have a _guest bed_ now!”

Castiel smiles. “Wow, going from living with our brothers to having a guest room with a guest bed.”

“What a time to be alive,” Dean says.

 

***

 

Dean has to actually pry Ezekiel out of Sam’s hands so he can get her in the cat carrier while Castiel lugs her cat condo out to the truck.

“You know she’s just going across town, right? You can visit her,” Dean says with the same tone he often used to placate Sam when he was a kid. Sam pouts.

“Dude, there are like a _million_ kittens up for grabs on Craigslist,” Jess says.

“Yeah, but--”

“Now come on, honey, we’ll find you a new furry friend this weekend and it’ll be less sad that Ezekiel is leaving.”

“Um, I’m leaving too you know,” Dean says, handing Ezekiel to Castiel when he appears back inside. “Like right now. I’m literally moving out right now. Can you look sad about _that_?”

“No, I’m too grateful that I won’t be overhearing anymore of your orgasms,” Sam says, watching Castiel carry Ezekiel away with a pitiful little frown.

“Well, don’t forget this,” Jess says. She holds out the date money jar. The label has been changed to say "Dean and Castiel’s Beautiful Life Together Fund".

“Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue,” Dean says, accepting the jar.

“Bobby, Ellen, Mom… they all think that the money should be put toward ‘making your house a home’ now that your ‘courtship’ is over,” Sam says.

“Whose words were _those_?”

“Bobby’s. I was telling him about your sad furniture situation, and he said ‘don’t those idjits have a jar full of cash on your fridge?’ and then he told Ellen and Ellen told Mom, and they decided you should buy stuff for the house.”

Dean pouts. “But I was thinking about taking Cas to the planetarium…”

“Dude, I don’t care what you do with the money, I’m just passing on the suggestion from the ‘council elders’. And tickets to the planetarium are like twelve bucks.”

“No, I mean they’re right. We need food, and a new bookshelf, and we don’t have a TV, and holy fuck we don’t have any toilet paper!” Dean can feel himself panicking as he tries to think of everything he should be out getting for the house.

Jess laughs. “God Sam, doesn’t this take you back?”

“It’s so cute,” Sam says, smiling proudly.

“Shut up! We don’t have a _couch_!”

Castiel comes back in, smiling at the jar in Dean’s hands.

“Dean’s freaking out,” Sam says.

Castiel looks at Dean. “He is?”

“Cas,” Dean whines, “we don’t have a couch! We need a couch! And a bigger shower curtain! We don’t have a _garbage can_!”

“I gather that is the new purpose of the jar? We’ll make a list when we get home,” Castiel says, smiling brightly at Dean.

 _When we get home._ Not Lisa’s place, or Castiel’s apartment, or Gabriel’s living room, or Sam’s house. Home. Dean feels himself relax almost instantly.

“A list sounds like a great idea.” He smiles at Sam and Jess, then at Castiel. “Let’s go home and make one.”

 


	31. Epilogue

**((Ten months later))**

 

Dean can admit it. While most of him was sure, a small part of him was really scared about moving in with Castiel. They were in love, of course, but how wise can it be to move in with a guy you’ve known for less than six months?

He needn’t have worried. Living with Castiel is easy in a way it wasn’t with Lisa, or even with Sam and Jess. For one, he’s not a guest here. His name is even on the rental agreement now, although Castiel is still paying a bigger share. Dean’s mostly made his peace with that though, and things at Bobby's shop have _finally_ picked up enough for Dean to get some more hours.

Living with Castiel is just… right. They have a way of balancing each other out. In some ways Castiel is the yin to Dean’s yang, and in others, they’re two peas in a pod.

They fight, of course. At Thanksgiving Castiel wanted to have his family over, _including_ Ion, whom Dean really despises. Unlike the rest of Castiel’s family, Ion has been unable to clear even a tiny portion of the enormous chip on his shoulder. They all have their good spots. Michael is thoughtful, Lucifer is funny, Rachel is helpful, Gabriel is _Gabriel_ , Anna gives good advice, Samandriel is sweet, and even Naomi has her moments of being almost kind. Ion is consistently a dick though, and Dean didn’t want him in the house, and Castiel had yelled that things will never improve if they don’t try, and Dean yelled at him for being too forgiving, and slept in the guest room that night. Dean eventually relented. Ion came to Thanksgiving, was a complete dick, and almost came to blows with Dean. After that it was Castiel’s turn to sleep in the guest room.

There was an early argument when Castiel decided they should use a chore wheel. Castiel said it would help them set up a good routine, and Dean said that he was a grown-ass man and wasn't going to use a damn chore wheel. That argument was settled with an arm wrestling match that left Castiel victorious, and Dean really, really turned on.

They bickered over how to decorate the house (Castiel won), who would get to use the single car garage (Dean won), and whether or not Dean should invite his father over for Christmas (Dean won, John hasn’t been invited to the house yet).

So, things aren’t perfect, of course. Ion’s still a dick, and Dean thinks Castiel makes far too many allowances to a family that turned their back on him for years. Dean’s still not talking to his father. Sometimes one of them will have a bear related nightmare, and wake in tears. They've faced a lot together. Chlamydia, bears, judgmental conservatives, and Becky Hammond, who Dean is still _certain_ pushed a woman to her death. Things aren’t perfect, but Dean is the happiest he’s been in his entire adult life.

Which is why he’s in the kitchen now, grinning at a freshly made cherry pie as he sets it in a box he swiped from Castiel’s shop. He’s practically giddy as he closes the lid, smoothing his fingers along the cream colored cardboard with unsteady hands.

He looks over at the clock, then jumps at the sound of the front door opening.

He listens, heart thumping at the familiar sounds of Castiel coming home from work. He hears the thud of Castiel’s shoes being dropped on the floor as he kicks them off, the sound of Castiel’s keys being set down in the bowl they keep on the coffee table, the gentle click of his tongue as he greets Ezekiel, the sound of his voice as he calls out to Dean.

“Dean? Did you _bake_?”

Castiel makes his way into the kitchen, smiling when he sees Dean at the counter. “That smells amazing. Cherry pie?” Dean nods, and Castiel wraps his arms around him, sniffing happily. “You’ve never baked us a pie before, though I’m glad you finally see the merit in cherry.”

Dean’s nervous as shit now, he can barely think straight. “Well, you’re the pastry chef.”

Castiel pulls away, smiling a confused smile down at the pie. “Why’d you put it in a box from the shop?”

“Uh… presentation.”

“Presentation for what?” Castiel takes a few steps back, looking at Dean with a slight tilt to his head. “Are you okay?”

Dean leans forward to kiss Castiel gently on the lips. “Yeah, I’m just nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be. It smells wonderful. Although I think I should get some dinner in me before I go indulging on sweets.”

“No, it’s not that.”

Dean picks up the box, stepping back. He gets down on one knee, looking up at Castiel and opening the lid so Castiel can see the pie. Dean watches him look at the pie, sees the moment Castiel notices the silver ring at the center, nestled in its own little pillow of pie crust.

Castiel stares at the ring, then at Dean’s face. Dean’s heart slams around inside his chest as Castiel stares into his eyes.

A slow, elated smile spreads over Castiel’s face, and Dean smiles back, wondering why he was ever even nervous.

Sometimes you just know.

 

 

 

**THE END**

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are. The end. For now. Some bullet points:
> 
> 1.) Thank you for reading and commenting! Watching the view/comment/kudos count on this thing go up is one of those little (maybe embarrassing) joys in life and I'm so grateful to everyone that reads this.
> 
> 2.) I was frequently frustrated with how aimless this story ended up being, but I had so much fun writing it and I hope you guys had fun reading it. Especially because my next longfic is a real fucking bummer. :x
> 
> 3.) Thanks again to Heather, Jade, and Kris for the beta action!
> 
> 4.) I live in a wooded area, and ever since I researched how fast bears can run for the B&B section I've been way more terrified of being out in the woods than I used to be. I mean I was always paranoid and panicky especially if I was wandering up the mountain alone, but now that I know how FAST bears are, I mostly stick to the woods around my house. One suffers to make art.
> 
> 5.) Sam's love affair with Castiel's cat really snuck up on me. I don't know how that happened. He is just so into that cat, though.
> 
> 6.) I've been making little graphic collagey things for some of my updates, if you're curious... they're [[here]](http://violue.tumblr.com/tagged/chlamydia).

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to read the timestamps!


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